The War of the Wizarding World
by DetectiveConanFan13
Summary: A war is brewing and the Fuhrer will be prepared. Amestris has always been a military power and it's time everyone remembers that. The battle will be bloody, but they will fight. 5th year/6th year, AU - No homunculi, RoyEd, HR, Hints of DracoxHarry
1. Prologue

Many did not know the real meaning of the Wizarding World before the war broke out. It was thought to be a community that has hidden towns and schools making up most of the population. This is _wrong_.

Whole countries belonged to the Wizarding World before the war, filled with people who have special talents due to being born in areas with a high density of magic. Some of these countries are protected by large versions of the Fidelius Charm, while others are covered in so many wards that anyone without magic in their veins could not get in unless they had already been there. The people inside these protections are aware of them and know that, although they are not there for their safety, they keep them safe.

In one of these lands, alchemists live and thrive. They know of magic and have shown how it does not violate their laws. Even being born with the ability to use magic made electrical devices more likely to act up in your presence. Unless one forced oneself not to use magic, if under non-magical (They did not like the word "Muggle") care, they would die. Wizards could not advance in anything but magic.

Using magic took energy from the caster and put misfortune in the area. The amount of both varied with how powerful the spell. Schools always had an area students weren't allowed to enter and that was where the wards funneled the misfortune.

Many creatures in that area did not like the fact that the more wizards there were, the more dangerous their living area became and so hostility ran high between the two groups, even if the wizards came up with many justifications for the creatures' behavior. It was argued that part of the cost was the inability to see the cost, but wizards knew nothing of equivalent exchange anyway, so it couldn't be tested.

While some argued the feats that wizards were capable of outweighed the cost, people familiar with that world disagreed. Tragedies struck the Wizarding World often and wars had a habit of breaking out. While they were immune to many non-magical diseases, some still died because they couldn't use non-magical methods to heal.

It is during one of these times that our story begins, about a year before the war, in one of the hidden countries, known as Amestris.


	2. Chapter 1

"Yes, sir." Edward Elric saluted and, after being dismissed, walked from the room back to the office. While he was still not the most formal person, he had grown to like being in the military as the years went by and was professional when actually working.

Besides, it had been worth it the first time Edward had come in quietly and actually listened to his orders from Mustang, following his promotion to Colonel and subsequent move into the office (Technically, he should have had his own office, but he had refused. The Fuhrer had obliged but still saddled him with five of his own subordinates who Edward checked up on less than he probably should). While he still got a disproportionate number of assignments in the field, he also got paperwork-which he had, contrary to all expectations (although Edward himself was not sure why they had _those_ expectations as he was known as a bookworm) been rather talented at getting done quickly and forging the Major General's (as the rest of the office had gotten promotions as well) signature on occasion when the forms simply had to be signed right that instant and Mustang wasn't in.

Hawkeye loved it. She even occasionally showed him favoritism. The rest of the office was too scared of her to even heckle Ed about it, but they damn well noticed the fact that he did not get the gun pointed at him unless he was arguing with Mustang and, even then, she shot at him less.

This assignment though… Goodness, this was going to be annoying. He had a latent talent with magic and had planned to keep it that way, but he wasn't sure he really had much of a choice now. Using alchemy on this mission wouldn't be a very smart choice. No need to show everyone what they could do when they were preparing to possibly fight them. Even if the Fuhrer hadn't specifically mentioned preparing for war, it was implied. Amestris was always caught up in one war or another, so this was just adding another possible enemy.

Mustang caught up to him around then, after being dismissed himself from the Fuhrer's office. "I don't think I'll be a very good ambassador," Edward said.

"And I will?" Mustang asked absently. His mind was obviously somewhere else. It was also obvious that Mustang would make a better ambassador than Edward, although he had gotten better as the office had refused to leave him alone until he was able to be polite to everyone for a week. They seemed to think that he planned on rising high in the ranks after his promotion and would need it. It may have been a horrible week then, but it would come in handy now.

"Better than me. I understand why I'm going, especially as these people haven't heard of me, but I am not looking forward to this. I'll probably stand out just because of my age and that's kind of the opposite of what we want to happen." Of course, if he remembered his lessons right, wizards were considered adults at seventeen (or had it been eighteen?), so it might not be that much of an issue.

"Honestly, everyone who expects you to act like a normal seventeen year old is in for a surprise. You're more dangerous than many twice your age, even if it doesn't show sometimes." Edward's eyebrows raised slightly at that.

"That sounded suspiciously like a compliment, Major General," Edward informed him, in an almost official tone. Mustang's lips twitched for a moment before he resumed an impassive face.

"Did it?" he asked, faking surprise.

Edward rolled his eyes and didn't respond to that. Instead, he asked, "What's the date today?"

Mustang looked at him for a moment, obviously slightly confused by the non sequitur. Still, he thought for a moment before answering, "July 14, I think. I'll have to check the calendar. Why?"

"We're leaving soon then," Edward mused. "I'll have to pack. Can't be late after all the strings people have pulled to get this done."

"Did you just appreciate manipulation?" Mustang asked, faking an amazed tone. A glare was the response to that. "How long does it take to get there?" he asked, more to divert Edward's attention than actual curiosity.

Ed looked at the ceiling for a moment, face thoughtful, before he looked at Mustang once more. "Well, we have to take Amestrian trains to get to the East and then we'll take some German trains to get to England. I'd rather not risk the consequences with using magical transportation to get there. I've heard non-magical transportation is really fast too. Could probably get us there in under a day. The whole trip will probably take about a week."

Mustang hid an amused smirk. Of course Edward would know how fast transportation was in Germany, even if Mustang was sure he had never needed the information before. "Wait," Ed paused and, when Mustang continued walking, grabbed Mustang's arm. "I said wait, bastard." Too used to the insult to take offense, Mustang simply looked at Ed, raising one eyebrow and managing to seem unconcerned with the too tight grip his subordinate had on his arm. "Do you even know English?"

Mustang drawled at Ed, "Of course. It's a bit rusty, but English is one of the languages at least half the population of Creta speaks." A thought came to mind and Mustang asked, "Do you?"

"Of course. Certain journals never get translated," he stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and why _wouldn't_ he know English? Mustang's eyebrow twitched at the tone he had used, but Edward was already walking away and they were almost to the office anyway. He doubted Hawkeye would hesitate to use her weapon if she heard them arguing since he had come in late and then fled to the meeting with the Fuhrer. Maybe if he started working fast enough, he would be fine… That decided, he confidently strode into the room. Very few would notice that he was walking slightly faster than normal. Unfortunately for him, most of them were in the room he had just entered.

Hawkeye had already turned, an almost murderous glint in her eye as she spotted Mustang, and he prayed for a swift death when Edward spoke up. "Major Hawkeye, I may have to leave a little early today. I have to get Winry and Al over here in the next few days."

With that statement, Edward had effectively caught the attention of the entire office and Mustang was silently thanking him, even if the other man was not aware of what he had done. "Why do you have to do that?" Breda asked.

"I can't take a few days off from work before going away on a mission in order to go visit them. I'll have to ask Winry is she's made any improvements since I last saw her…" He trailed off with a small wince.

Noticing that, Havoc said, "Probably not. You saw her a few weeks back after destroying your arm again."

Edward winced again before retorting, "That was more than a few weeks back. It's been at least four months. Besides, it wasn't _destroyed_! It was just… a bit broken."

Havoc raised an eyebrow before leaning back in his chair and saying, "Your definition of broken is very different from mine."

Edward sighed before saying, in a manner reminiscent of his brash self (although he was still rather brash, it had toned down a bit), "Whatever." He huffed and continued with his earlier statement. "Anyway, after that, Mustang and I are heading out on a mission, along with a few others in various departments, although I'm not sure who."

"What type of mission?" Falman asked.

"Information gathering mostly. Technically we're there to observe the community and then attempt to renew a treaty at the end of our stay once we've learned more about their culture and customs. Of course, everyone knows that means the Fuhrer just wants us to spy on them." Hawkeye sent him a disapproving look and he supposed that he shouldn't have used those exact words anywhere near where someone could hear him and report back to the Fuhrer. "It's in the English Wizard Community though." Here, Edward wrinkled his nose in distaste. He was trying to forget that aspect of it, but, logically, he knew it was the most important part.

He then realized that he was being given looks of pity mixed with sympathy and his eyebrow twitched. "What are those looks for?" he asked, annoyed.

"Nothing," the office replied simultaneously. Everyone knew the English Wizard Community was the most troublesome of all of them. This was when both Hawkeye and Edward noticed something.

"Where did Major General Mustang go?" Hawkeye asked. When her question was greeted by shrugs, she pulled her weapon out in a smooth motion and put the safety off. Immediately, three men (Fuery was out of the office at that time) pointed towards the door that led to Mustang's office. Hawkeye sighed and put her weapon away. It wasn't worth it today, especially if he was already in his office. Besides, he had a mission soon and no one would want to replace him.

Edward simply sat down and began to do his work. The others quickly followed suit and Hawkeye smiled approvingly. After a few hours, in which Fuery came back and the office went to get lunch, Edward grabbed the coat he had taken off in protest of the heat and slung it over his shoulder. Proper decorum be damned when it was this hot. Even the air conditioner they had stolen (which was why Fuery had been gone earlier) was doing little to combat the heat. Then again, Edward didn't really care too much about proper decorum in the first place. "I'll be going now." He gave a very lazy half-salute-which prompted lazy half-nods from the others and a chorus of goodbyes-before walking out the office door.

* * *

><p>"Yeah, yeah… I got it, old lady! Pass me over to Al already!" Edward sighed. Winry had already yelled at him for ruining his automail already before he managed to get out that he hadn't and then Pinako had decided to question the suspicious activity of him calling when he didn't need something. He realized that it was only half-joking on their part.<p>

"Brother? Are you injured?" Edward glared at the phone box in front of him. Sure, he usually didn't call more than weekly nowadays, but did they really have to jump to that conclusion when he did? Then again, it usually was correct… Still!

"No, Alphonse. Have a little faith in your older brother! I'll be going away for a while though and wanted to see if you and Winry could come to Central before I left. I can't get down to Risembool," he explained, fingers lightly tapping the glass he was leaning against. He thought he was tapping the beat to a song Hughes showed him once, but he's not sure that what he's tapping was actually the beat and not just a random rhythm.

His little brother paused for a moment before asking, "How long will you be gone?" Edward detected a hint of anxiety in his tone.

"The mission will last a year, at least. We'll be going to the English Wizard Community. It'll be Mustang, me and a few other people."

"A year…" Alphonse trailed off before asking, "When are you leaving then? Winry and I will be sure to come up."

He stopped tapping, words flowing from his tongue without him really thinking about them. "Well, I just found out about the mission today, so I had to-"

Alphonse cut him off, realizing his brother was stalling. "Brother. When?"

"Next week." Edward tensed, waiting for something–what, he wasn't sure. The something that happened did not fulfill whatever his expectations were.

Alphonse sighed lightly, with a resigned aspect to it that Edward was intimately familiar with. "That's not much time. We'll be there in a few days. Don't do anything stupid until we get there."

If Edward hadn't known that was his brother's way of reassuring himself, he probably would have started off on a rant about how he rarely did stupid things and Alphonse should already know that. Instead, he simply said, "I won't. I only have a few days to do anything and I don't think I can think of anything suitably catastrophic in that time."

Alphonse laughed and they gave their goodbyes. Winry was put back on the phone and Edward quickly asked, "Have you made any improvements?", trying to forestall any more comments about how reckless he was. He could practically hear her glowing with excitement.

"A few. I wanted to try out a new material actually. I think you'll like it if your going to England, but I'll have to work quickly if you want to try it out. The material is an alloy that's more resistant to cold-" At this point, Edward tuned out her ramblings. He understood her passion, but the subject still wasn't of interest to him.

Hearing a pause, he interjected, "Sounds great. I have to head out now, so I'll see you soon."

Quickly saying goodbye, Edward hung up and walked casually off. He really did have to pack, although he had plenty of time. Maybe he could convince the librarians to let him take a few books? Then again, they guarded them rather zealously, so maybe not. Either way, he had to brush up on his English. It had been a while since he had read something that required it and he never had learned to actually speak the language.

Edward sighed again. He was going to have to read a dictionary, wasn't he? Besides that, he also had to read up on the English Wizards. He had pride in his country (even if it didn't often show) and he would not embarrass Amestris. Of course, that meant he would have to find out exactly how he was supposed to act in that society…

This week would involve a lot of research. Edward grinned and several people moved away once they saw it. The Fullmetal Alchemist grinning like that didn't tend to bode well for the people around him.

Ignoring the weird reactions of the people around him, Edward began wondering which books would be the most helpful. He hadn't had a challenge like this in a while. It would be fun.

* * *

><p>"Hughes?"<p>

Maes blinked a few times, trying to force himself awake, before he slid on his glasses. "Ed? Why are you calling me at-" He checked the time and almost recoiled from shock. "-five in the morning?"

"I need some help," Ed said shortly. It took a moment for the sentence to sink into Maes's sleep-deprived mind, but once it had, he was very awake.

"What's going on? Did you blow up a building again or something? What do you need?" Maes asked quickly, not bothering to pause for breath. Edward was a trouble magnet in the best of times, but he didn't often need Maes's help.

"I didn't blow up that building! That was an unstable alchemic reaction drawn by an idiot who activated it right when-"

Maes's mini-panic attack quickly faded once Ed started talking. If he had enough time to rant about how he hadn't technically blown up a building yet, he was fine for that moment. "Of course, Edward. What do you need though? I'd like to go back to sleep at some point." Really, he'd like to go back to sleep at that moment, but it wasn't likely to happen.

"Ah. Right." Maes shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. Edward could get distracted so easily sometimes. "Where can I find information on the English Wizarding Community?"

"Oh, you're one of the ones chosen for the mission then." That was a pretty smart move on the Fuhrer's part in Maes's opinion. "Have you looked in the library already?" That was usually Ed's first resource, and the participants had only been informed yesterday that they were chosen. It was weird that he was calling Maes at this point.

"Yeah. They only had a few books that even mentioned the place, and most of them were fiction. Poorly written fiction. Only one of them was helpful in the least, but it was one of the fiction books, and so it could all be wrong for all I know." Maes shifted the phone slightly as he rubbed at his eyes. It was just too early for him to be functioning properly. Edward may wake up at this sort of time whenever he went in for work, but Maes had a later schedule. Really, practically everyone had a later schedule than Edward Elric. There were rumors floating around that the boy never slept, and Maes would be worried for the boy's health if he hadn't seen him sleep until noon on his off days.

It was slightly worrying that Edward apparently knew his schedule though. Even Ed had some sense of decorum, so he wouldn't call this early unless he thought Maes would be awake. Maes was almost certain he had not told Edward his schedule at any point.

Some days, Maes thought Edward should really be in the Intelligence Department.

Then he went and did something stupid and Maes was glad that Roy was the one who had to deal with it. He's pretty sure Edward has had so few missions that went exactly as planned that he now abandoned most of the carefully drawn up plans and just sort of winged it because that tended to work out better for Ed.

"Yeah, we don't deal with them often. Information can be a bit hard to come by and most of it is hopelessly outdated if it came through official channels." Or even some of the unofficial channels. Wizards were annoying to deal with at the best of times. "Amestris hasn't directly dealt with them since sometime in the 1500s. I'll check some of the files at work, see if I can find anything for you. Either way, you should probably ask Roy about it."

"Mustang?" Edward sounded honestly perplexed that the man's name was even mentioned. "Why would he have anything?"

Maes chuckled lightly and leaned on the counter behind him. "You guys don't really discuss hobbies with each other, do you? He likes learning about other cultures. Doesn't care much about the specifics of their machinery or anything, just likes knowing about their languages and etiquette. Even if information is hard to come by from here, he used to convince people who were traveling out of the wards to bring him back a book or two when we were in the academy," he explained. "I think he even managed to travel outside the wards for a couple of days at some point."

"Clever bastard. Half the population of Creta and some people outside the wards, more like," Edward muttered. More loudly, he said, "I'll ask the bastard what he knows at work today. Thank Hughes."

"No problem." Edward may not be able to see it, but Maes's glasses glinted as a goofy smile crossed his face. "Do you know what Elysia did just the other day though? She was so cute, working on-"

"Right, Maes, I'll see you soon! Bye!" Edward said hurriedly and a dial tone came through moments later.

"Geez. You would think he didn't want to hear about Elysia."

* * *

><p>"It doesn't count as breaking into your house if you invite me to look at your books anytime," Edward said the moment he heard the door open, not even bothering to look up from the book that had captured his attention. His face rested on one of his palms and his entire body showed how relaxed he was, making the intensely focused expression on his face seem out of place.<p>

"It wasn't an invitation to break into my house and then splay across my couch," Mustang said with no heat in his tone, hanging up his jacket as if randomly finding Edward in his home was an expected occurrence.

"I made coffee," Ed offered with a shrug, turning a page as he shifted into a more comfortable position, laying his head on the armrest of the couch.

It was unclear whether he was making an offer or simply making a statement, but Mustang took it as the former. "Excellent. Which book is that?"

Edward shot him an unimpressed look, as if he were supposed to recognize every book in his library on sight, before he tilted the book up slightly to expose its spine. '_Pride and Prejudice_' it read in English in almost indecipherable loopy golden writing. "It's not a particularly helpful book," he asserted flatly.

Mustang's lips twitched as he refrained from chuckling. "It's not supposed to be." He disappeared into the kitchen for a few moments, reappearing with a steaming mug clasped in one hand. He moved over to the shelves in his living room, hands skimming over his books before he came to the one he was looking for.

The thin, black book had no title on its cover, but there was a small 'D' in red, cursive writing in the right bottom hand corner.

"This is the one I started on. It's a journal from one of the men who made the trip a couple of times over the years. He never traveled to the English Wizarding Community, but he did go to England. I bought it off him before he moved out of the wards," Mustang explained, handing the book to Edward. It would be almost impossible to replace the thing if it somehow got ruined, but he wasn't that worried; after all, this was Edward Elric, and the one thing he could always be trusted with was books.

Edward took the book a lot more gingerly than Mustang would have expected, hand lightly touching Mustang's for a moment as he slid it out of his grip. Ed brushed his hand across the cover, scattering the slight build-up of dust that book had experienced. It had been a while since Mustang had needed that book, so it was to be expected. "Did you know him well?"

Mustang breathed out slowly, considering the question. "Once. He's gone now."

The young man had enough tact not to ask what he meant by that. A lot of people were gone now, whether it through death or moving away. He simply nodded and gave Mustang a short smile of gratitude before setting down _Pride and Prejudice _and carefully opening the journal.

The dark-haired man grabbed his own book–_A Treatise on The Cost of Magic_, which, while rather outdated and occasionally grossly biased, was still widely considered one of the premier books on magic–and shoved Ed's feet off the couch to make room for himself, not bothering to complain when Ed just put his feet into Mustang's lap after a moment. A companionable silence fell, broken only by the soft turning of pages and the clinking of their coffee cups as they drank.

A few hours later found Edward asleep, limbs haphazardly, one foot still in Mustang's lap while his other leg and one arm were completely off the couch. Their cups rested on the coffee table and the journal was clutched loosely in Edward's grasp, almost touching the ground. Mustang set down his own book and shifted Edward's foot off him before heading into the hall to get a blanket. He draped it over Ed, not surprised when Ed had managed to tangle himself in it once Mustang returned from the kitchen after getting a refill of coffee.

He grabbed the book from Ed's grasp, bookmarked it and set it on the table with his mug. He never did finish his drink as he was asleep himself a few minutes later..

Ed woke up early in the morning, carefully exited the room and pretended he didn't notice Mustang waking up, because that scene was a bit too charmingly domestic for the both of them when Edward still lived for adrenaline and Mustang didn't want to settle down. He walked back to the dorms and vaguely wished he had one of the mobile phones that the author of the journal had written about. They would be useful so he could thank Hughes for his advice before he had to head off to work even if they did seem unnecessarily bulky and Edward was sure he could modify that design to make it smaller. Then again, that bulkiness was probably the reason they were mostly found in cars.

As Ed walked on, he continued to muse on his newfound knowledge of the world outside the wards. It had never been relevant before and probably would never be relevant again, but Edward loved knowledge.

The Colonel could be found sprawled on Mustang's couch every night that week.

Neither of them mentioned it.

* * *

><p>"Brother! You're late!" His brother not only managed to call this over the low buzz of people wandering the train station, but also injected a certain resigned accusation in his voice that Ed was certain he would never be able to replicate.<p>

Alphonse looked well, holding both his and Winry's luggage like the gentleman he was and having put on some weight since Edward last saw him. Ed was of the opinion that Al always needed to put on weight, ever since they had managed to restore him to his body, and both Winry and Pinako shared this sentiment.

The brat was wearing that blue coat to copy Ed though. He can tell from the mischievous twinkle in his grey eyes. Ed refused to comment on it, just to spite him. At least the rest of his outfit didn't copy Ed, because leather pants simply didn't go as well with Alphonse's personality, even if he was a cheeky imp sometimes.

"I was asleep!" He quickly moved on from that topic due to the fact that he was asleep on Mustang's couch once again, and while _he_ knew it was completely benign, Al has been trying to revive Ed's romantic life for a year now and wouldn't take it that way. He wasn't sure if Al would try to kill Mustang or try to force them into a relationship, but he's not particularly eager to find out either way. "You're staying at the Hughes's, right? Let me take that," he said, already snatching one of the suitcases from his brother's hand. It was a bit heavier than he expected, so it was probably the one for the automail. "How have you both been? Helping out on any of the neighbor's farms or has work kept you guys busy? Any interesting customers?"

Huh. Perhaps he had been speaking a little too fast, as Alphonse was giving him a look that implied he knew exactly what Ed was trying to do but would let it slide for now. Even after being separated for months, they know each other too well. Ed hopes–in the back of his mind, in a place where all the sappy thoughts he never acknowledges go–that that will never change, because they've been through so much already to lose that constant.

Alphonse tells him about some of the more interesting customers that he had helped with and mentions how busy Winry had been in the last week. Winry is grinning then and talking a mile a minute about the limbs she had designed for him and how much work she had put into it and if he breaks it, he will be sorry. Ed nods at the appropriate places, content to walk and not comment on how much closer than usual Al and Winry were walking. He's smart enough to know that there are some places where he can't interfere in his brother's life, even if his brother doesn't return the favor. Then again, Alphonse is better at people than him, so having some help might not be that bad of a thing when it came down to it if it was from Al.

He still smirks at Al when he's holding the door open for Winry and is gratified to see his brother go red.

He's still such a kid.

It's about halfway into the week when Al burst into Edward's home and Edward was not there. He didn't tell his brother anything about it, just smirked more often that day. Edward looked at him askance more than a few times in the course of the day, but Al didn't say anything and silently wondered who his brother was spending his nights with. He will know as soon as Ed was ready to tell him, but it didn't make him any less curious as to who had managed to capture his brother's attention.

The next day was the day Winry had decided would be good to replace his automail, and he gritted his teeth and tried not to squirm as the pain made his vision blur for a few moments. There's a slight ache at his ports, as there always was when he received new automail. It will be gone by the time he leaves which was the only reason he allowed it so late into their visit, even if changing automail makes him less willing to go out and more irritable. He won't let himself be anything other than at his best when he leaves his country.

Outside the wards was unknown territory and all soldiers knew what to do when going into unknown territory: assume everything was out to kill you.

He grinned–although it was more baring his teeth than smiling–at the thought; it had been all too true on some of his missions.

He closed his eyes as Winry connected his leg and forced his mind off of the procedure once more by mentally reviewing the train schedules and timing. It was something of a favorite thought of his when he had some downtime. He wasn't entirely sure why he was anticipating the journey to England so much–because it was England and sure to be cold and wet and miserable for his ports there if the journal was any indication–but he had memorized the precise time and date for every arrival and departure and even a few of the more interesting stops. He didn't move the instant that Winry was done, letting the pain abate for a few moments before he stretched. He ignored the spike in pain that accompanied the movements and analyzed how his limbs felt different. It took a little less energy to move them and he hadn't been able to flex all the way like this with his last set. Those had been built with a focus on strength and durability while these seem to be focused on speed and agility. He noticed how there was some excess metal on the top of his arm and fought the urge to grin. Winry was even planning for him to get into fights now and designing accordingly.

He hugged her before she had moved too far away. It was a bit awkward seeing as he was shirtless and not really the hugging type of person, but she returned it well enough. "Thanks, Win. Your work is amazing sometimes."

She pulled back from his embrace and smiled indulgently at him. "No need to thank me. I'd do anything to make sure you're alright." They grinned at each other for a moment before she added, "And what do you mean sometimes? My work is always amazing, alchemy nerd!"

Al watched them fall back into their usual banter, leaning against the doorway as he listened to them casually toss insults at one another. He continued watching fondly even as Ed flinched away from Winry who was waving around her trustworthy wrench a tad too close to his head for comfort.

He couldn't help the niggling worry that it would be years before such a scene would be able to repeat itself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, I got a review that someone was worried this was abandoned. Not even close, darling. I warn when I abandon and I just have far too many ideas for this story to just leave it be. It's just very slow going due to the sheer size of this thing. Therefore, what happens is I randomly get ideas for a scene that won't happen until Ed is at Hogwarts or Mustang is talking with Umbridge or some other thing that doesn't happen yet, so I write something, but it can't be added to the current chapter.<strong>

**In case you haven't noticed by the size of this chapter and how little it has done in terms of plot (Yay for exposition!), this shall be huge. Like 'oh my goodness, why did I think it was a good idea to start this?' huge. There's a bit of info on my profile, but to recap for those who don't want to look, this is going to span a year of recon and then a year of war, plus there will probably be an epilogue about ten or so years past the events of the story. It will involve politics (well, my version of politics, which is probably inaccurate in many respects) and character injury and some death (but I probably won't be able to bring myself to off many named characters anyway, so most of the currently planned deaths occurred in canon, are of nameless mooks or of the villains).**

**There was another review saying the prologue sounded like a documentary. I'm proud to say that was intended. ^.^**

**I'd like to say that this isn't just the type of story where the characters from the series go to Hogwarts. They are going to be changed in some ways, both due to different events in their lives (the lack of homunculi as well as the addition of the wards and their effects makes changes in the FMA universe) and their slightly older ages. I really hope I can capture that and still not make them seem OOC. The focus is going to be on the FMA characters, particularly Ed and Mustang, but the Golden Trio, Al and a few others (who I don't want to give away yet) will play a large role in this story as well.**

**In other news, this is un-beta'd. Any mistakes you'd like to point out would be appreciated. I have trouble with keeping the tense straight occasionally, so that could happen. Constructive criticism is always nice.**

**Thank you so much for reading, and please review. Subscriptions and favorites are so nice to see as well.**

**Ja ne!**  
><strong>~J. DCF<strong>


	3. Chapter 2

"You really shouldn't be walking yet," Al noted in a tone that was more observing than disapproving. Edward didn't even bother to look up from rummaging in the fridge. He was still wearing the boxers and the slightly worn out muscle shirt he had worn for the operation. He shrugged absently as he roughly shoved the milk out of the way to get at the unusual pastry behind it. "Winry's going to kill you. What are you even eating?"

It was the middle of the night and neither of them should be up. Alphonse was taking over Ed's couch that night while Winry had stolen his bedroom. According to Winry, it was so he could be monitored after the surgery, but Ed is pretty sure it's just because his bed is really comfortable and Winry made an excuse to steal it at least once every time she was in Central. Edward was supposed to have stayed in his study on the couch in there in order to avoid aggravating his still sensitive nerves, but Al had had the feeling that wouldn't be the case.

Edward finally straightened, examining his food with a faint look of distaste on his face. Al had never seen him approach most foods with anything less than enthusiasm in normal circumstances, but he simply waited for his brother to say something.

Ed wrinkled his nose slightly as he replied, "Local food in the British Wizarding Community. I'm told it's pumpkin pasties." He made a vague motion to offer one, but Al shook his head. "And what Winry doesn't know won't hurt her." He gave Al a pointed look with that last statement.

Al lowered his head for a moment in tactic agreement before glancing behind him toward the empty hall. Even though he was certain they would hear Winry coming long before she would hear them, he pitched his tone lower and said, "There's something wrong with this mission."

Edward himself double-checked the hall and quickly began drawing the curtains after casting a glance out of them. It never hurt to be paranoid in Amestris, where the slightest thing could be misconstrued as treason or sedition in the right hands. He knew he had enough enemies that were waiting for him to stumble and had done himself no favors in the chain of the command during the wars.

Treason and sedition were taken seriously in Amestris.

Alphonse waited until his brother was done, frown slightly more pronounced with each rustle of fabric. The room was almost completely dark when he was done, only the slightest sliver of light coming in through the fabric of the curtains from the streetlamps outside. Once he saw the small nod Edward gave him, he continued, "The Fuhrer may want to scope out potential allies, but why send some of his strongest alchemists for an entire year just for information? Why not send more people from Intelligence? We're always close to war with Drachma and Xing, even if our borders are open right now."

Edward nodded seriously, his eyes casting around for something he had missed in his security. He was tempted to use alchemy to truly secure the windows, but that would draw too much attention and defeat the purpose. "I've thought about that. The Fuhrer is a smart man," he said cryptically, pausing for just long enough that Al was pretty sure he wouldn't elaborate. His voice was almost a whisper as he asked, "What sort of information could his most efficient fighters give him that someone from Intelligence couldn't?"

Alphonse exhaled slowly, letting it sink in and allowing himself to come to the conclusion he really hadn't wanted to. "He wants to start a war."

"I don't think the results of the mission really matter," he said darkly, looking down at the ground. He looked as if he were bracing himself for a blow, fists clenched and feet apart. "He claims so many soldiers are going due to possible hostility, but we outnumber Intelligence four to one. There are only eight of us, and we each have independent assignments. That sort of group," he paused, looking for the right words. He met his brother's eyes and forced his body to relax as he said, "It searches for threats, not reasons to maintain peace."

Al's brow furrowed as his frown became even deeper. "Why them though? He could easily sway public opinion so a war with Drachma or Xing was popular."

"There's been a decline in military support lately. Too many lost lives, too little gain. I'd say the old man's looking for an easy victory," Ed said, shrugging almost dispassionately, but Al caught the coiled tension in his every movement. Edward never had been the best at properly relaxing, particularly when people were trying to manipulate him. "Everyone knows you can disarm a wizard way easier than you can disarm an alchemist." Seeing as the easiest method for disarming an alchemist was to knock them unconscious, that was an understatement.

He took a bite of one of the pumpkin pasties as they stood there in relative silence. He was pretty sure it was just cultural arrogance that made the food taste off, but he didn't much care, eating the rest of it in as few bites as possible.

The sounds of the yelling of those going home from a night of clubbing outside seemed more distant than usual as Ed turned to the cupboard. Alphonse treaded lightly on the ground, opening the curtains once more as Ed grabbed a cup and poured himself some juice. "I'm going to bed then," he said. Ed looked at him, noticed how he didn't say 'back to bed' and wondered just how long Al had had trouble sleeping.

"I'll probably be heading out in a bit." He gulped down the rest of his juice and set the glass down in his sink as quietly as he could, unable to avoid the slight clink as it touched down. His brother was staring at him again. He could feel it.

He looked up after a very long moment, cheeks going red at the sight of the smirk on Al's lips. "Not like that!" he said, a tad bit too sharply for a whisper to convey well. Alphonse's smirk widened at his response.

"Then like what?" he asked impishly.

Edward wasn't really prepared to give his brother an answer to that question, so he scowled and stayed silent, cheeks burning as Alphonse quietly walked away, an air of smug victory around him that Edward was sure Al had never used in his life before. It didn't suit him, in Ed's opinion.

Of course, he was willing to admit he was biased against it when it was being used against him.

As soon as his brother was around the corner, Ed slipped into his study once more, grabbing the emergency change of clothes he had hidden there that morning when he figured out that Winry wanted to perform the procedure there. He changed into the more appropriate clothing with as little fuss as possible, tugging on his gloves as he double-checked that he had everything. He would hate to have successfully escaped Winry's notice just to have to double back because he didn't have his pocket watch and then get caught.

He gave the room once last glance before vaulting himself out the window. The impact jarred him awake, sending spikes of pain through his left leg and he bit back a curse as he did a neat somersault upon landing to prevent a more serious injury. He was pretty sure he would have bruising on his shoulder later and both his ports were stinging.

He was also pretty sure he would get a lecture if anyone knew his first thought was that he should probably practice jumping out of his window more often, just in case. He just wanted to be in the best condition possible for anything, honest. It had nothing to do with the sensation of flying that he had gotten to feel for a split second.

He looked back up at his home, scanning the windows for any sign of movement. He looked away a moment too early to see the curtains draw back slightly and Alphonse peek around them, a smile on his lips.

Rolling his shoulders in an effort to rid himself of the remaining sting, he began casually walking down the street, not looking at the few people he did pass. The drunkards were rowdy often, but a hint of the gold in his eyes and the silver in his pocket sent them scurrying away rather than trying to cause trouble.

State alchemists could send fear into everyone's hearts, Hero of the People or no.

* * *

><p>Roy wasn't particularly surprised to find Edward on his couch when he woke up in the morning. He was surprised that Ed was asleep on his couch this late, but neither of them had to be in to work today either way.<p>

It was a surprise merely because he had always simply assumed that the schedule a working Edward Elric kept was the same one a relaxing Edward Elric kept. He had been out of Roy's house every morning early enough to make the assumption seem valid.

He stared at Ed blearily for a moment before wandering into the kitchen and making coffee. He preferred not to function before his morning coffee.

When he returned to the living room, he noted that Ed had left and wondered when the man had gotten so sneaky. He hadn't even heard the door open.

He also wondered when he had grown to expect that behavior as he carefully stowed the book now lying on his coffee table on his bookshelf before settling onto his couch, feet kicked up, cup in hand.

It was much too early for this sort of thing.

* * *

><p>Edward was a bit glad that it was a lot harder sneaking into his house without being detected than it was sneaking out of it. Really, he was.<p>

However, it was a bit problematic and Alphonse signing behind his back through the window at him to hurry up was not particularly helpful.

He sighed. His body was going to kill him for some of the things he did to it one day.

Of course, that was only if his job didn't kill him first.

It only took him a minute to climb the steps of the building next to his and a bit of alchemy to get through a locked door onto the roof. He repaired the lock swiftly, ignoring the slight warping around the edges that were the telltale sign of a hasty transmutation, and cautiously peeked over the edge of the building. Alphonse was still signing at him, although it was a bit faster and more frantic now.

Edward took a deep breath before leaping over the edge of the building and onto his own roof. He had had it reinforced for this specific purpose because one never did know when they would have to avoid being seen going into their own home. That had been a bit hard to explain to the guys doing the reinforcing, but they went along with it with little more than a mumbled, "What if I want to use my roof one day for a party?" After all, he was the FullMetal Alchemist; he was allowed to be a little eccentric.

He made a set of stairs that led into the study and transmuted it back into the roof before the increase in sunlight into the room could be noticed. He brushed off a bit of dust from his right shoulder and braided his hair once more before exiting the room.

Winry, who had been walking toward the door at that point, saying something about him missing breakfast to Al over her shoulder, turned to look at him in surprise. "It's not even noon and you're up!" she teased.

He had forgotten how long it was since Winry had visited him in Central.

He thought about correcting her for a moment, about telling her about how he was always awake before noon because there always seemed to be something that required the FullMetal Alchemist's attention. He was pretty sure that, by this point, waking up after noon would be impossible for him. She looked happy teasing him about it though.

"What time is it?" he asked her, even though he knew full well precisely what time it was. He forced his voice to sound a bit slow and groggy, like he used to sound whenever he woke up when they were children.

Winry smiled at him in that warm but patronizing manner she had sometimes and he sometimes deserved. "It's barely ten, Ed. Come on, we're going out to eat."

Edward rubbed at his eye slightly, a yawn erupting from his mouth. Perhaps he was a bit more tired than he realized. Really, he should get more sleep, but he hadn't slept well since his mother's death and it had only gotten worse in recent years.

"Who's paying for it then?" he asked, pretending to be obtuse and knowing Winry and Alphonse both knew precisely what he was doing. Winry still obligingly played along while Al hid his smile at their usual antics, trying to act mature.

Winry sidled up to him and said with a wide grin, "Why, the successful military Colonel, of course!"

He snorted and snatched up one of the hats he left by the door to lessen the chance he would be recognized, shoving it roughly onto his head before walking out. Alphonse was right behind him, adjusting the cap slightly so that it sat properly, and Winry walked at Al's side. "Sometimes I feel like the only reason you two visit me at all is to get free food."

"You've caught us, Brother. Darn. Now we'll have to come up with another way of getting free things," Alphonse said sarcastically.

Ed directed a mock suspicious glare at him. "What happened to the real Al? He wasn't nearly so snarky the last time I saw him." Winry giggled and he resisted the urge to shoot her a similar look. She didn't giggle in the years he had known her prior to this trip nearly so much as she had during this week.

They were going to be good for one another once they got over the whole "too nervous to broach the topic" thing. He'd just be glad that they were back to their normal selves.

* * *

><p>"Remember to do regular maintenance on your automail, and try not to do anything that could break it. I can't exactly head over to Wizarding Britain whenever you need it," Winry told him, poking at his chest to ensure he got the message. Her other hand was on her hips, and her slightly wild hair due to the early departure of their train made her look more formidable than usual.<p>

Either way, he knew she would come if he truly needed it. He was pretty sure he wouldn't, but it was reassuring all the same.

"I'll try," he said noncommittally. Winry huffed slightly but picked up her bag.

"Alchemy freak," she muttered as she gave him a hug, burying her face in his shoulder for a few moments.

"Crazy gearhead."

Alphonse and Edward looked at each other for a few moments. "Take care of everyone, okay Al?"

His brother smiled. "Well, with you gone, it's really just one less person to care for," he joked, albeit with a serious undercurrent to it that made Ed shrug.

"You've always been the older brother on the inside anyway." Alphonse shook his head but didn't elaborate.

They gave each other a short hug that really barely qualified as such. "Men," Winry scoffed, rolling her eyes as she headed toward the train, Al quickly following behind her. "If it's broken, Edward, I'll break you!"

"Yeah, yeah, crazy lady," Ed called back, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from people on the platform. He probably should get moving soon and check in on his office sometime today. He was setting off in the evening, and he hadn't checked in on those under his command in about two or three weeks now. They were scarily efficient even without him ordering them around, so he had to wonder about the people in the office he had become so fond of.

He waited until Alphonse and Winry were whisked out of sight by the train, waving all the while.

* * *

><p>He had found it a good habit to appear in his office dramatically. He knew the reason these specific soldiers had been assigned to him by the Fuhrer and maintaining a larger than life personage around them kept them more firmly on the "worship the heroic Colonel" side than the "report back to the Fuhrer on his activities" side.<p>

That was also why he hated going back to his office and avoided it whenever possible.

"He should have come by. Maybe the intel was mistaken?" Goodness, they were really horrible spies. Well, maybe that wasn't quite fair to them. He had just snuck into his third story office through the window, so they couldn't exactly expect him to be able to hear them. Still, shoddy spies. They were naïve and trusting in all the worst ways for such a position; he was always resisting the urge to compare them to puppies in his head.

"The intel is never mistaken," one of the men whispered back low enough that Edward wouldn't have been able to hear him at all if he had been in the corridor with its slightly thicker door to prevent spying on specific offices. Internal office doors were designed thinly so that commanding officers could keep an eye on their subordinates.

Someone let out an irritated sigh. "Get back to work, guys. Whether he comes or not, you all have paperwork to do. Do you really want to disappoint the FullMetal Alchemist and possibly get him in trouble because of your incompetence?"

There was the sound of chairs scraping against the ground and the shuffling of papers for a few moments. Edward debated entering the office and surprising his subordinates before the door swung open and Celia shrieked at seeing him there, almost dropping the paperwork she was carrying in. "Sir! How long have you been here?" she asked, snapping to attention.

He stared at her as her breathing slowed and she began to color. She was easily embarrassed which would have been almost endearing if he didn't know why she was embarrassed in this situation. "Does it matter?" he asked, all innocence and charm. Her obvious discomfort was slightly appeasing; he may not be a sadist, but he certainly wasn't looking to put her at ease at the moment.

"No, Sir!" she barked out.

He nodded sharply. At least she wasn't stupid. "At ease." He gestured for the paperwork in her hands, assuming it was for him. She obligingly handed it to him before saluting him again and walking hurriedly out of the office. He shook his head before glancing at the stack. It was relatively small compared to his usual amount, but he supposed his work had been distributed throughout different departments. He spared a brief moment to feel pity for them; he was well aware of the fact that he was more efficient than the usual Colonel and was assigned a disproportionate amount of work in response. He set to work, too used to the tiredness that seemed to drag at his limbs for it to bother him too much.

He finished half of the stack he had in the next hour and decided to take a break. He leaned against the doorframe of his office and Michael was the only one of them who looked up, mainly because he was already done with his work, the outbox filled and the rest of the desk clear. Ed nodded at the lounging man and received a hesitant nod in return. He was aware of the man's eyes on him as he looked away, glad he had chosen his iconic red coat to wear to the office. The thing was almost as much of a legend as he himself was seeing as it had never been completely destroyed no matter how dangerous the situations. There were rumors that it had come out unscathed from encounters that left him in the hospital.

He had laughed himself sick when he had first heard the whispers in his hospital bed and ensured the coat was in pristine condition whenever he went out in it after that.

He took in the tense set of everyone's shoulders and their hurried scribbling upon the pages in front of them, amusement flashing like a short-lived candle. If they truly thought that he was angry, then the legends of his anger weren't nearly as legendary as he would have liked. He'd have to ask Hughes about it.

He went back into his office, unwilling to stand in the silence that never pervaded Mustang's office. He was done within another hour, and he suddenly found himself wondering what he was to do with the rest of his time. It was only nine in the morning and he had to go pick up his belongings at five in the evening so he could have enough time to go through his house one more time to ensure he had everything and get to the train an hour before it left to try and avoid the media. It didn't matter that the mission was being kept quiet. They always found out somehow whenever he was heading out somewhere. He understood that his age and the acceptance he had earned from the people made him fascinating and popular, but he found it annoying that they seemed committed to documenting whenever he was catching a train.

After the last time when he had tried to bludgeon a cameraman with his own bulky camera, he tried hard to avoid the press. It wouldn't do to ruin the image that allowed him the ability to bend the rules a bit more than anyone else would dare.

He was pretty sure the press would be more adamant about avoiding him had he actually managed to hit the cameraman, but the man had been surprisingly nimble for his build in a manner reminiscent of Armstrong. It irked him more than he liked to admit.

He rose slowly from his chair and debated exiting the way he had come. That seemed a bit too dramatic though, so he made his way through the office, bringing his paperwork with him. He could drop it off before he went somewhere and it gave him a little more time to decide where that somewhere would be. He tilted his head slightly at his subordinates as he passed by, ignoring their far more cheerful goodbyes. They were an eternally perky lot whenever he acknowledged them at all. He shuddered to think what might happen if he had a proper conversation with them.

He took stock of himself as he passed through the halls, not absorbing the men saluting to him or the colorless walls. He didn't have to pay attention at the moment as most of his superiors were stuck in their own offices and wouldn't be coming out for a while; his response could just be an automatic nod of recognition. Food seemed like an alright idea. It hadn't been that long since he had eaten though and he wasn't exactly eager to take his lunch break so early in the day.

Really, he swore he was already passing through the door before it registered exactly where his feet had carried him, honest.

… Well, Edward had never been very good at lying to himself anyway.

"Hey Boss," Havoc said with a nod, the others calling out their own greetings as Ed settled into his chair, the restless feeling that seemed to permeate his entire being silenced for the moment. "You sticking around today?"

Ed shrugged lightly. "Most of it, probably. I've done most of my prep already." He cocked his head toward the door, a smirk on his face. "He's leaving early then?"

Hawkeye was the one who answered, slight annoyance in her tone. Her hand was a safe distance from her gun for now as she wrote, even if she could probably shoot him in two seconds flat, regardless of where her hand was at the moment. "Not if he doesn't finish the paperwork that he's been avoiding for two days."

He wasn't imagining the despairing groan that emanated from the inner office. He knew Mustang would be done with everything in time, simply because that was the man's nature. Ed smirked as Hawkeye narrowed her eyes at the door. She just continued with her work though, so he looked around at the others. They were all doing their own work, with Fuery's being the most interesting. He seemed to be trying to fix the air conditioning unit they had borrowed, although it had been working perfectly fine when they had first gotten it. Edward couldn't decide if the man was trying to make it work better than it had been or simply work at all. The day was windy enough that the air conditioning wouldn't have done much anyway, so it really could be either one.

He walked over and looked over the man's shoulder. He knew what some of the wires were for, but a decent amount of it was lost on him as Fuery fiddled with the machine. After a while of silence, Fuery began muttering explanations of what he was doing and Ed grinned. The man knew him too well.

About an hour after noon, Havoc manhandled him out of the office, ignoring his loud complaining about both the manhandling and being torn away from the interesting work going on. He narrowed his eyes as he was hustled through the doorway, noticing Hawkeye's slight smile along with Breda's full grin before he couldn't see the office any longer. "Asshole," he muttered loud enough for Havoc to hear just to show that he wasn't pleased with the situation even if it was probably best that someone had reminded him that it was time to eat. He would hate to have missed his penultimate meal in Amestris for a while.

Havoc just grinned unrepentantly at him, which probably meant that he knew exactly what Ed wasn't saying as well. Damn. The entire office knew him too damn well.

A few people were looking amused at their antics as they went down the hall although many of them tried to keep a straight face as they saluted him. It had been a few weeks since he had done anything particularly childish. Some of those they passed called out a goodbye before Havoc managed to get him to the next hallway.

He took his arm back as the door to the mess hall came into view and shoved Havoc slightly before dashing in. The servers all loved him more than almost anyone else in the building, so he knew Havoc would have to wait for any sort of vengeance until they were alone again or else he might end up with food that had been tampered with or little food at all. Ed simply grinned smugly as the man's annoyed countenance came through the door. "Brat," he said, narrowing his eyes at Ed's pleased expression.

"Hello Marsha," Ed said to the woman behind the counter, completely ignoring Havoc.

In the end, Havoc almost managed to trip Ed as they exited the mess hall but failed due to the unexpected entrance of Mustang who casually bumped Ed's shoulder and rebalanced him in the process. Ed nodded both in greeting and thanks to the man who turned back to the few papers he had brought with him. To anyone else, Ed would have cautioned against it, but Mustang ate in an almost preternaturally neat and graceful way so messing up the papers really wasn't an issue.

Al, of course, had always argued that Mustang just ate like a normal person and Ed just ate like a heathen. Ed usually let the argument drop quite quickly as it always seemed bizarre to argue about how graceful Mustang may or may not be.

Secretly, Alphonse always found it odd how quickly that particular argument got dropped because Ed was usually quite happy to argue about exactly how messy he was or was not for hours even when they both knew Ed was almost meticulously organized in his life except with his clothing, food and a few other items. The only reason his uniform looked crisp when he actually wore it was because he had gotten tired of hearing others scold him for an imperfectly pressed uniform or unpolished boots or any number of infractions that no one had bothered him about when he was younger.

It was one of the things he missed from his childhood. Only Al and his mother had ever bothered him about clothing then and it had been more making sure there were no new tears from some of his more ambitious and, quite frankly, reckless stunts.

He realized his thoughts had taken quite a detour once he noticed he was three hallways away from where he had started and Havoc was tugging on his arm once more, leading him as if he were a child this time rather a protesting adult who knew precisely where he was going.

He almost growled as he tore his arm from Havoc's grasp once more and stalked toward Mustang's office, determinedly ignoring Havoc's pleased grin.

He supposed Havoc considered that his revenge for the shove earlier.

After they managed to get to the office, Havoc got straight to work, earning himself an approving look from Hawkeye. He hid a grin from her as he perused documents, but Ed saw it and wondered when everyone he knew had started coupling off. He made idle conversation with Fury to pass the time, who had finished his work on the air conditioner which had apparently been to make it stronger and not to fix it at all. He had only been moderately successful, but the day was just as pleasant as it had been that morning so it didn't really matter.

He ended up taking a short nap at one point, but that hadn't lasted long. He hadn't realized how much he was anticipating this trip until it was nearly upon him. He might be going for less than pure reasons on his Fuhrer's orders, but he was finally going to see the outside of the wards.

He hadn't really mentioned to anyone how exciting that prospect was to him for fear of being called childish, even if he knew most people, particularly those he knew, would share in his excitement.

* * *

><p>Ed casually leaned against a wall, pulling a hat that was just large enough to be bulky and unfashionable but small enough that no one could call it unmanageable. His hair was currently hiding in it, and he was trying to conceal his distinctive eye color with the brim. The few reporters milling about hadn't looked twice at him yet, but he was relatively certain that would change once he started approaching the train or if he stood there too long. Some of the reporters he recognized as the more senior among their bunch had already started glancing at him, probably because of his large trunk.<p>

General Walther swept in the entrance and Ed strode over to him quickly. Even if he hadn't been looking for someone like him, the General's blond hair was even lighter than Ed's and made him a bit hard to miss, particularly since it was combined with his dark skin tone that made people whisper of an Ishvalan ancestry but no one really gave any credence to the rumors. His dark green eyes swept over Ed but the man didn't pause. He noticed that the man shortened his stride slightly so that Ed could keep up; this was one person he didn't mind doing that as the man was extremely tall and usually walked at a brisk clip that could leave those who were unused to physical activity panting as they tried to keep up with the man.

The General would have no reason to be here if he wasn't going on a train himself and Ed was willing to bet that they had been assigned to the same mission. General Walther was known as a brusque man with very little mercy or pity for anyone. He tended to respect anyone in the military in any capacity or those affiliated with it but had no time for mistakes. Many of his subordinates had asked for a transfer out within their first month due to his unforgiving nature. If Ed was correct about the nature of the mission, the general would probably be the first choice to go.

Ed was on generally good terms with the man; the man valued results more than method and Edward tended to deliver on those with an astonishingly high success rate. The general didn't quite respect him as he would someone of equal rank, but he was treated like a younger sibling in some manners. Ed secretly suspected that General Walther was trying to groom him to be his subordinate later as he had noticed the general tended to treat those directly under his command similarly. He didn't share his suspicions with anyone quite yet though as the current situation was working out well for him, and he also knew that the man respected Mustang.

He didn't dare tell Mustang for fear of the man getting an even more bloated ego, but he was relatively sure that if all the proper channels were followed, General Walther would support Mustang's rise to Fuhrer. The man had once expressed a disinterest in becoming Fuhrer himself, and Edward knew that General Walther knew exactly how that sort of comment could be taken when rumors of various people's aspirations to become Fuhrer circulated throughout Central HQ on a regular basis.

(Admittedly, the General had said it when Ed was a bit younger, and it had taken him about a week to understand why the man had said it at all.)

"General Walther," he said with a brisk salute as he fell into step beside the man.

"Colonel. I'll assume that you're one of the eight then. Do you know of any others?" Ed raised an eyebrow slightly at the man who simply gave him a slow blink. It was impossible for the man to be unaware of who else was on this mission so he was testing Edward to see what Ed knew.

Ed gave him a slight nod after a moment and noticed with a vague sense of pleasure that the reporters didn't dare get nearly as close as they did when he was alone. "Major General Mustang was also chosen," he said and was unable to read any sort of reaction from the man's blank face. He didn't mention that Hughes had mentioned Lieutenant Alvon and Major Muller from Intelligence were also accompanying them but the raised eyebrow he got from the General indicated that he knew that Ed was not telling him everything.

Ed simply smiled at him, annoyed when the cameras flashed more insistently for a moment before they entered the train and were hidden from view. Ed gave a small sigh of relief and Walther looked amused for a moment as they stopped on either side of a compartment door. The instructions had told them to all meet up in the third compartment of the second car, but neither wanted to be seen through the windows.

"How has the Major General been lately?" Walther asked. Ed brushed off the self-consciousness that attempted to creep up on him as he took in the man's straight back and compared it to his casual leaning on the wall.

"Better than the last time you asked." Seeing as the last time the man had asked had been over a year ago and shortly before the war with Drachma had ended, it would have been difficult for it to be otherwise. However, the General didn't need to hear that from him. If he had wanted to know about Mustang's condition-and he never really did-then he would have been able to know about it without asking Ed.

"Any particular reason?" Ed tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out the question. The General sound a bit curious despite himself, and he stared at Ed as if he were trying to ferret out the secrets of the universe by the power of his gaze alone. 'The universe would probably quake under that sort of look,' Ed thought fancifully. Ed didn't move. The General added, "There have been rumors floating about that you've been a bit…" He paused, searching for the appropriate term or perhaps just pretending to search for one for show. The man was surprisingly theatrical when the mood struck him. "Indiscreet," he finished.

It took a short moment for him to thread the conversation together before he caught the meaning the General wanted to convey. "I'll suppose these rumors are surprisingly specific and consistent as to whom I've been indiscreet with," he said-with a slight hint of annoyance he didn't bother to hide-even though it was relatively obvious he was correct. Walther didn't bother to respond which was as good as an affirmation from the man in this instance. He preferred not to discuss any sort of personal business at all if he could help it. Ed supposed the man liked him more than he had thought if he was willing to warn him about the rumors going around about him, particularly since he hadn't even heard these ones yet. They had to be relatively recent for him not to know.

So, there were rumors going around that he was sleeping with Mustang. He'd have to discuss it with the man himself then, but it couldn't hurt to plainly tell the General the truth of the matter. "It's interesting the sort of things that those with too much spare time come up with. With such imaginative souls in our organization, it's amazing we haven't become renowned for our creativity." Well, plainly enough.

He opened the door and was greeted with the sight of someone already sitting there. The fact that he was wearing his military uniform indicated both his rank and the fact that he wasn't exactly the most experienced with missions involving travel; no one could say that the uniform was particularly comfortable for long periods of time. The man either was in a contentious area and therefore didn't have to travel much or he didn't have much experience with fighting.

"Captain," Ed said neutrally as the man stood and saluted the two of them. The General waved him off but the man didn't sit until the two of them had put their luggage away and sat.

"Hello Colonel Elric, General Walther. I'm Captain Yoki. I hope we work well together," the man said somehow managing to exude the appearance that he was both unruffled and a fan.

Ed and Walther returned the sentiment, albeit a little less excited about the entire thing. They fell into silence after that, all of them unobtrusively observing one another and all quite certain they were being observed in turn. The others trickled in one at a time with Mustang waltzing in last only fifteen minutes before the train was to leave and promptly claiming the spot between the General and Ed. The General caught Ed's eye for a moment and gave him a look before returning to gazing at each of their fellows in turn.

He recognized the Intelligence officers as he had ensured to learn their faces over the last week but the last two in the compartment were a mystery to him. There was a black-haired man who had a disapproving look on his face; Ed wasn't sure if that was how his face was naturally set or if he didn't approve of the group that the Fuhrer had assembled for the mission, but it didn't much matter. He had only saluted to the General upon walking in so it wasn't too hard to guess his rank once Mustang saluted him. The Lieutenant General may just be disapproving because he had assumed he would be the highest ranking member of the mission for all Ed knew of the man. He wasn't particularly tall which Ed drew a sort of vindictive pleasure from; it wasn't immature if he didn't mention it to anyone else. The man was a bit portly as well and Ed repressed the urge to frown at that; this was a man used to commanding others and not fighting himself.

The woman had hair in a shade of red that Ed was relatively sure did not occur naturally. That, along with her earrings in the shape of alchemic symbols and the symbols on her watch, tipped him off that she was an alchemist. It was slightly worrisome that the symbols he saw tended to be associated with the creation of poisons, but he was relatively sure he had heard of this woman. If he was correct, she was the Viper Alchemist due to both her use of poisons and the fact that when her temper was roused she was a force unto herself; thankfully, it was also rumored to be rather hard to rouse her temper. She seemed to have an affinity for red that Ed was pleasantly surprised to see in someone else.

Once everyone had settled in and the train was finally on its way, the General took control and suddenly Ed felt like he was back in school on the first day of class as they went around and introduced themselves.

"Lieutenant General Fessler," said the black-haired man. Ed wasn't quite sure how he felt about the man as he felt Mustang's shoulders tense slightly every time Mustang glanced over at Fessler.

"Lieutenant Colonel Lewis," the woman said with a slightly bored tone that contradicted the amusement in her eyes. So, she was the Viper Alchemist. Ed wasn't sure how unsettled he should be by that.

"We really shouldn't all be so formal with each other," Ed said and while Lewis, Walther and Mustang seem to get it, Fessler, Yoki, Alvon and Muller all seemed a bit less clear.

"While our ranks may not mean much to a wizard ignorant of non-magical culture, it's unlikely there will be many wizards like that and our ranks will raise alarm or at least alertness as to our actions," Mustang explained. "If we were all Sergeants, it would be different, but our ranks are too high to attract no interest at all." Walther gave Ed another look at that that seemed to be almost mocking. 'How… indiscreet,' Ed could picture the man saying to him. He scowled at him over Mustang's shoulder, ignoring the fact that in order for the others to not see it, he had to lean closer than he had already been in the slightly cramped compartment.

The compartment really was designed for six passengers to sit comfortably, but the eight of them were pressed together due to both the confident body language everyone felt they had to have in order to make a strong impression and the fact that some of them were bulky individuals. It was fortunate that everyone seemed to have come to the silent consensus to leave their luggage outside the compartment. Ed himself was forced to lean into the corner and Yoki hadn't been able to attain much space to stretch despite having been there first. Mustang lounged, his limbs spread, and Ed allowed him that intrusion into Ed's space. Ed didn't need to appear in power or control in this situation as long as he didn't look otherwise. Besides, he wasn't too interested in political posturing.

He would have to be more careful to not casually invade Mustang's personal space during the train ride. He had become a bit too used to simply tangling up with the man on Mustang's couch and no one else would deem that as innocent as it had been.

Yoki nodded, the gesture seeming almost automatic. Lewis and Walther were smirking while Fessler and Alvon were stone faced; Edward took note of the latter. Alvon had seemed to be a bit of a wallflower, but if she were just shy, she certainly wouldn't have that expression. Muller was smiling at the entire compartment, seeming excited about generally everything.

"Last name basis then," Lewis said and then she stood up in a smooth motion that was barely affected by the rocking of the train. She stretched as she continued, "Lovely chat everyone. Glad we had it. Now, I'm going to go claim my own compartment. Anyone care to join me?" She looked around at them all, but no one really responded directly to her statement as they rose themselves to go off and get a compartment.

It was as they were leaving that Mustang murmured in Edward's ear, "A week on a train with some of the deadliest people in Amestris. Why do I feel like I'm in a badly written mystery novel?" Ed snorted as he leaned casually next to the door. It was best to warn Mustang now to watch his actions rather than claim a compartment. He had already allowed everyone to leave before him in order to help him catch Mustang alone, so he just had to wait until they were out of earshot. He smiled at the look Lewis gave him and shrugged lightly at Walther's backward glance, waiting until they had all gone into other cars.

The current car was half compartments for sitting and half dining area, both of which were unsuitable for a sleeping compartment. It was the only reason Ed had decided to wait there rather than drag Mustang to a different compartment to ensure privacy. Maneuvering around other passengers was a non-issue as the train allowing people outside the wards was specially designed to come through the wards undamaged and was being used for military purposes only during this specific trip. No one really complained as it wasn't as if people were particularly eager to exit the wards.

"No real mystery to be had yet, so you're still fine," Ed said flippantly as the door slid shut, waiting until he heard the distinctive click to speak again. "Some people are spreading rumors about us sleeping together. Thought you might like to plan accordingly."

Mustang hummed, the noise approaching thoughtful but missing it and veering off toward amused. "Nothing to plan yet. We don't have any influence about what people in Amestris think about us while we're on this mission, and rumors change and die daily."

Ed shook his head. "I don't think so. General Walther expressed concerns about these rumors."

Mustang looked surprised for a moment before the door clicked and his face was set into its default confident smirk.

"Thought you might still be in here. I was wondering if you two would like to be in the same car, because we need to plan around that," Muller said, curiosity and innocence on his face in such a manner that Ed wasn't sure if he should be suspicious of the man or not. He was military, but he was Intelligence and relatively young.

"Don't care," Ed said gruffly even as he leveled Mustang a significant look.

Mustang looked toward the door opposite Muller so he could roll his eyes at Ed before turning back.

"Ah. I understand," said the Major with a wink that caused both Ed and Mustang to look at him oddly before he elaborated. "I'll tell them to just leave you two your own car."

He had slipped out again before either of them thought of anything to say.

"Okay, how did we not hear of this before it reached this level?" Ed asked as he rubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't sure where to start with damage control on this; that was more Mustang's territory than his.

"We still don't have to deal with this. It'll die down soon enough and it'll be obvious enough that there is nothing going on between us. Just be honest if they ask. You should find that easy enough, unlike if we had to lie about it."

Ed twitched at the implication that he would have difficulty being anything other than honest, but he knew the man was trying to get a rise out of him. It had become Mustang's default way of making him forget other worries over the past few years, and it still worked startlingly well even though Ed knew precisely what was going on. "And you should find it pretty difficult, silver-tongued bastard," he shot back.

"The insult lacks a bit of its bite when I've been trying to become a silver-tongued bastard for years."

"You've always had terrible goals anyway," Ed said dismissively, managing to pull it off for only a moment before he began laughing at the offended expression Mustang had adopted. "Come on, future Fuhrer." He ignored Mustang's warning look at the words; the others were in different cars, likely unpacking in order to be comfortable during the long trip, so the danger was negligible. "Let's go make sure we get a good car."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As always, slow update. This one is longer than the last though and came less than a year after, so yay? We have a glimmer of the overarching plot here, so hopefully that makes it worth it.<strong>

**On a completely different note, I would like to point out that just because Ed thinks something doesn't mean he's right. He isn't very good at reading his own emotions sometimes (e.g. anything to do with Mustang), so he doesn't understand some of the other characters and their motivations and therefore can't accurately read them.**

**Also, while it doesn't really show quite yet, not a single one of the military characters are in perfect mental health, not even our main characters. Currently, they are in relatively calm situations but all of them have been affected by the wards around Amestris and the effects those have had, and it will probably show up in surprising ways. **

**Speaking of that, Lewis's role shifted around a few times before I settled on her motivations and therefore decided how she would interact with Ed. She was originally supposed to be cold and mean to everyone, but, as you can hopefully see, that didn't really happen because when I decided on her motivations, it didn't make much sense. Everyone has their own goal that they are trying to achieve, whether it be changing Amestris, getting promoted or protecting their loved ones, and most of their actions are taken with that in mind. **

**Walther also changed a lot. He was a lot more harsh and brusque in my original conception of the character, and then he decided that he liked Ed and that he was dramatic and he turned into a much nicer guy than he was supposed to be. The problem is I can't write people who are simply mean without trying to reason with myself and making them likable in some manner because that's how people are. No one thinks they're evil or wrong, so writing them like that just feels too lazy to me.**

**Constructive criticism is always welcome, as well as pointing out errors that I missed. It's un-beta'd once more, so there's probably a ton, especially since it was written in different chunks. I wouldn't be particularly surprised if I accidentally had a character change outfits or something in between lines. Any questions are good too. Even if I can't answer directly, I can try to ensure that it gets answered throughout the course of the story, and perhaps I hadn't considered it. (There is a lot to consider with this thing.)**

**On another note, if you like what I write, I do post a couple of works exclusively on AO3 under TanteiKID13. Of course, some of the works on FF are only over here. The version of this story over there gets the updates far later, but more of the story is written when they do, so the chapters have minor details changed to make it more consistent later. They really are minor fixes and don't really affect the plot in any manner, but if you like details, it might be worth it for you.**

**... I have a thing with long author's notes, apparently.**

**Thank you for reading, and please review! Subscriptions and favorites are lovely to receive as well.**

**Ja ne!  
>~J. DCF<strong>


	4. Chapter 3

Throughout the next week, Ed felt paranoid. In of itself, that was not an unusual state of being for him during a mission. However, he wasn't quite sure if his paranoia was warranted or not.

It had started that first day after he had dragged his belongings into the car that had been left for Mustang and him. He hadn't really bothered to unpack at all, partly because they were only there for about a week and partly because he wasn't entirely sure he trusted the others to not go through his stuff.

After that, he had went off to familiarize himself with the other cars, leaving Mustang to fuss over his own things.

He smiled at Alvon, and the girl seemed to take it as an invitation to walk with him. He didn't particularly mind that, especially since he was likely to interact with the girl a decent amount throughout the next year and he didn't know much about her. After Hughes had mentioned Alvon and Muller as part of the mission, Ed had gone slightly out of his way to see exactly who they were, but he hadn't exactly had the luxury of time. Just because Hughes had stressed that they were good soldiers didn't mean that Ed didn't want to figure out a little more about what he would be dealing with.

It hadn't taken much asking around to figure out that Alvon was a girl that Edward had seen trailing behind Hughes on occasion. She was lanky, thin to an extent that Edward wasn't quite sure was healthy. Her black hair made her paleness all the more apparent, especially when contrasted with the tan most military personnel managed to acquire. The fact that she was wearing it down now simply made it more obvious. She hadn't made much of an impression beyond the few times she had accidentally snuck up on another soldier and scared them half to death. It hadn't happened to anyone in Mustang's office yet, but Ed was waiting for the day.

He had noticed that when it happened, she didn't offer an actual apology, only a smile that could be interpreted as apologetic. He hadn't quite managed to work out if she was just that shy or if she found it just as amusing as Ed did.

They had a nice conversation about how the newest privates seemed absolutely hopeless, a safe default topic whenever officers had no idea what to talk about with one another. Their other conversations didn't go nearly as well. He wouldn't go so far as to say she was totally lacking in personality, but only because no one could possibly be so bland. After conversations on family ("Orphan."), city life ("It's okay."), food ("Necessary.") and different sorts of pets ("I don't like animals.") all failed to last longer than a minute with no attempts at saving the conversation from Alvon, Ed gave up. If Alvon didn't want to make nice, he couldn't exactly force her, and he didn't have the energy to try.

She followed him around quietly, occasionally commenting on subject like the weather and the quality of the wood for the seats, both of which were apparently equally good seeing as she limited her comments to things like, "The weather is nice." Edward wasn't entirely sure what game she was trying to play, but it was irritating him.

"Elric, Alvon," Muller called, slightly too loud for the size of the car as he strode toward them. "Fessler called a meeting in the Meeting Compartment."

"We have a Meeting Compartment?" Alvon muttered, quietly enough that Ed was almost not sure she had said anything at all. Still, her ducked head didn't quite hide the grin spreading across her mouth, although it vanished quite quickly once she glanced at him and noticed he was looking.

Huh.

They both followed Muller, who was wondering aloud about whether or not Walther actually had to come to this meeting, seeing as he outranked Fessler. He didn't seem to care either way, but he managed to talk about it through three cars and never repeat a point. It would have been a lot more impressive if Walther hadn't joined their walk two cars in with no sign that Muller had noticed. Walther himself simply seemed amused by the monologue.

Mustang was standing in the door of the compartment, trying to convince Fessler to move their meeting into the dining area of the car rather than the cramped compartment. He didn't appear to be succeeding due to Fessler's sheer stubbornness and Yoki's willingness to capitulate to a senior officer. Lewis's complete lack of opinion either way didn't particularly help.

Ed ignored his companions' slower steps as he moved to try to help Mustang convince Fessler that they really didn't all need to be so close together in order to work together properly, but Walther moved slightly in front of him, shaking his head in such a small movement that Ed wouldn't have seen it at all if he hadn't been looking up at the man due to the first movement. He could see Alvon watching him out of the corner of his eye, and Muller had fallen silent ahead of them, watching the drama before him with a keener eye than his chatter would indicate he possessed.

Walther stepped forward, allowing his voice to pitch lower in the manner that it did when he was trying to remind people that he was higher ranked than them. "Fighting about such a petty thing is beneath us, gentlemen." What was Walther playing at here? The interruption itself was unnecessary as the matter would resolve itself now that the others were there, and Walther wasn't getting to his point nearly as quickly as he usually did. Ed vaguely noted the immediate salute that Walther's presence garnered from Yoki even if the action was contrary to the stated goal of not giving away their ranks, but he also noted Muller's complete lack of reaction to the man's voice from behind him beyond moving aside to give Walther space to step forward. "There's more room out here for a discussion and it would be best to change areas when discussing sensitive information." Ed wasn't sure Walther meant to imply he distrusted someone enough that he suspected they would bug a military transport or if it was supposed to be general paranoia, but Fessler smiled tightly.

"Of course," he said, moving out of the compartment as Ed stared at the back of Walther's head, trying to will the man into turning around. Walter turned and ignored his gaze as the group scattered around the dining area, taking his own seat instead of looking at Ed. Edward slid into a booth, and Mustang took the other side.

Walther had intervened to ensure Mustang won the argument. Ed had known Walther supported Mustang in a general sense, but it was odd for the man to make a move that could be construed as such if he didn't have something in mind. Given, it was a very small move, but Ed had a feeling that Walther wouldn't leave it at that.

Which once more begged the question of what exactly Walther was playing at.

As soon as everyone seemed relatively settled, with Walther being the only one who refused to sit in a chair and was instead standing at the door, Fessler spoke. "Now, while we've established the baseline of our communication between each other, we need to work on our approach to this community."

Walther didn't so much straighten up as much as he just suddenly seemed taller. It was a trick Edward would have killed for years ago, but he noticed the man was leaning toward the door slightly less and his knees were less bent. The man was dramatic as ever. Either way, the second Fessler looked at him, the rest of their gazes transferred. Fessler looked vaguely irritated, but he allowed Walther's show stealing, and the man was a high enough rank to know that causing trouble with a superior officer, especially over something so small, wouldn't benefit him in any way.

Ed liked Walther, but the man had a tendency of forgetting to watch his own back. It was possibly a bit much to think that Fessler would act against Walther for continually shutting him down, but Ed didn't know enough of the man to discount the possibility. Adding to that whatever Mustang was holding against the man, and it might be best for Ed to keep an eye on the situation. He simply hoped he would be able to see any warning signs, because he had a history of missing those, which often led to buildings exploding in manners that Ed swore were not his fault. There would be no exploding building this time around, but Ed was relatively certain that didn't mean there wouldn't be any explosions.

The meeting itself went smoothly, as they discussed possible areas where data was needed to ascertain whether or not the British Wizarding Community was really a valuable enough ally to keep them. There was also the secondary objective of determining whether a threat to that community had been recently revived, a militant leader known as Lord Voldemort. Lewis hadn't been able to contain her snort upon hearing the name, and Mustang's habitual smirk had appeared in order to cover his amusement.

"There have been claims that the man has managed to resurrect himself. While this is doubtful, another person could be operating under the same moniker in order to attract recruits. As radical ideologies are most likely to be able to attract youths, it is important we keep an eye on the political leanings of the youth population and how they are reacting to this news."

It felt like suddenly everyone in the compartment was staring at Ed. Instead of glancing around at them all, Ed continued to focus his gaze on Walther. He wouldn't dignify them with a reaction. He still noticed Mustang leaning forward with a smirk; Mustang's eyes were on Walther, but Ed was pretty sure the smirk was for him.

"We have previously chosen Elric to monitor them, preferably in their school environment," Walther continued even as his eyes continued to try to bore holes into Ed, as if daring him to disagree. Ed wondered why, if he was previously chosen, he was only being informed now. They couldn't be that concerned about a security leak, could they?

Unless, of course, the security leak would be news of the nature of the mission itself. Sending away some powerful fighters for a year was a risky move and one that Amestris's enemies would take full advantage of if they knew.

That implied that Ed himself wasn't trusted enough in order to receive a full debriefing beforehand. Ed considered this. The Fuhrer wasn't a very big fan of the way he handled things and seemed to dislike him on a personal level, even if the man did recognize his utility. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that the man didn't trust him nearly as much as he did someone like Walther.

"Of course. My education is disrupted because my guardian was chosen as a diplomat for this mission, forcing me to come along due to me being a minor in our country," Ed said, the words tripping out of his mouth with little thought. He was going to have to use his age to his advantage and pretend to be a lot more naive than he actually was. That was problematic. He was a terrible actor. His poker face was pretty good at this point, but teenagers didn't interact with people like that.

"And of course his guardian can visit often to ensure his charge is okay," Muller said with a sly grin. Edward shot the man an annoyed glance even as Walther looked considering.

"That would probably be best. It would allow us to communicate any sensitive information that may come up as quickly as necessary. Better an overprotective guardian than military communication with the only member of our party who can pass as a civilian," Walther said, and Muller face lost its grin as he spoke, a speculative look overtaking it.

"Not quite a civilian," Fessler said, indicating a small folder on one of the tables no one had decided to sit at. It was a manila folder and seemed to only have a few pages in it, but it had a gaudy red stamp across it reading 'Classified'. Ed was just far enough away that he couldn't read the label on the folder, and he certainly wasn't going to stand up during a meeting just to do that. "Military but still a child."

"Play up the child aspect, and you have someone that can be regarded as a civilian," Lewis said. She appeared to be the least interested in the proceedings as she slumped against the wall behind her and watched them all with half lidded eyes that seemed to imply she would rather be sleeping than where she was. Ed allowed that he was perhaps reading a bit too much into it.

Fessler gave her a measuring look for a few moments before breaking the odd silence. "Best to have all our terminology straight," he said.

"Of course," Walther said, tilting his head in acquiescence. Fessler seemed unimpressed. "The opinions and loyalties of the civilian population are also important to monitor, as we'll need to understand exactly how likely the population is to support their government's actions. It's useless pursuing an alliance with a country that can't a government that can't control it's population." Walther smiled at the lot of them, eyes lingering on Ed for a few moment too long, as if trying to figure out exactly what he knew.

So, Walther knew what was going on too. Ed wondered exactly how much he had been told and how much he had figured out about the mission. After all, there was no need to justify where they were being placed unless someone asked for clarification or Walther felt there was room for doubt.

"And how exactly do we go about that?" Muller asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We've been assured that certain shopkeepers friendly with the Ministry would be glad to take on an employee or two in order to help balance the costs of this sort of trip. After all, Amestris doesn't have much of a focus on military expenditure." It took everything Ed had not to snort. Everyone who understood even the basics of life in Amestris knew that was false.

… And that was actually slightly worrying. Did magical people really have so little idea of what Amestris was? He knew information about Amestris was likely just as limited in the British Wizarding Community as information about the British Wizarding Community was in Amestris, but to have it so bluntly said was disconcerting.

"What exactly do they know about Amestris?" Ed asked, the question sort of tumbling from his mouth rather than being thought through first. It might have been better to ask Mustang or Walther at a later time rather than in front of everyone else. He wasn't entirely sure how much he could trust anyone else quite yet, so allowing them to know where he was lacking knowledge might not have been the brightest move on his part.

He shrugged internally. Too little, too late.

Walther seemed properly pleased with the question, and Ed suppressed the flare of amusement. The man was still angling to train him up then. He noticed Lewis's eyes open slightly, and Fessler shifted a bit more forward, complementing Muller's shift backward. Alvon tilted her head slightly, hands folded demurely in her lap. Yoki seemed to sit up straighter, if that was even possible. Mustang was the only one who remained unchanged.

So, none of them knew either. That was good. He wasn't automatically cast as the person who had had to ask the implicitly obvious.

"According to their knowledge, Amestris is controlled through Parliament primarily and the Fuhrer secondarily. Our military is weak due to the low likelihood of an attack within the wards, and magic is regarded well. We are a small country but we have faired well in the wars against our neighboring nations due to our size and advantageous geographical location."

"That will fall apart the second they ask anyone who's ever actually been to Amestris," Alvon said, her face generally disbelieving but with a smile still pasted on, as if it were helping her make more sense of the situation.

Walther looked at her, his steady gaze measuring. "No living magical being has ever been under the wards, according to our records. We've scoured the records of Xing and Drachma as well." Ed wondered if looking at their records had been done in a legal fashion.

"Not a single one?" Fessler asked, skepticism clear in his tone.

"The one who has in the past hundred years is quite dead," Walther assured him. "We killed him ourselves."

"Right," Lewis said, looking awake now but still leaning quite casually against the wall. "That's great and all, but who exactly are we putting in the shops?"

"You are one of the obvious choices. After all, subterfuge is one of your specialties, isn't it, Viper Alchemist?" Fessler asked, a touch of venom in his tone. She looked down, and Ed could barely see her murderous expression from his position before she looked back up, bored expression on her face. Ed couldn't be sure if there was history there or if the rumors had simply been wrong about her temper. It certainly didn't seem as though it was that hard to make her angry.

"Of course," she said, sweet as could be, looking at Fessler with an almost gentle expression. He seemed to find this a lot more disconcerting than he probably would have found her original response as he simply gave her a short nod.

Walther waited throughout the exchange, face stony. Ed had found out a long while ago that that was just how his face naturally set. It was sort of amusing watching new recruits scramble around trying to please the man when he was already content. "As it turns out, Lewis is in a shop, as are Muller and Fessler."

Muller accepted the role with the sort of cheer that Ed was slowly becoming accustomed to from the man, looking inordinately pleased about the whole thing. He wondered if Muller would have acted exactly the same had he not been chosen to be in the shops. Fessler seemed to be making an effort to not appear annoyed. It wasn't working particularly well.

"The rest of us are to be inserted into different departments within their," Walther paused, a touch of distaste creeping into his tone as he said, "Ministry of Magic."

"And they've agreed to this," said Lewis in a flat, disbelieving sort of tone.

"Some of the details are still to be negotiated upon arrival," Fessler cut in, voice seeming to be aiming for pleasant and hitting smug. Ed considered that he might be a bit biased in regards to the man due to Mustang's reaction to him, but he discarded the notion. Even if he was, Mustang tended to be a good judge of character.

Walther continued, tone daring anyone to interrupt again, "Their government has been extremely cooperative during this process. We see no reason for there to be any trouble during our dealings with them. During our negotiations, the focus is to get ourselves into four places. We assume that their military is structured outside of their government as no reference has been made to one throughout the course of our correspondence. Nevertheless, we wish to observe their military structure to determine the strength of our possible ally." Ed barely prevented himself from snorting, a puff of air still making it out before he could stop himself.

Walther ignored it, possibly because Lewis hadn't kept herself from snorting. He simply looked at her and she raised an eyebrow, but she made no comment and he continued. "We also wish to look further into their Department of Magical Law Enforcement, particularly the subdepartment of International Magical Cooperation to find out exactly how our possible ally deals with its own allies in a more objective manner than we can with the information currently available."

Wait. They needed objective information? Edward hoped that didn't actually mean their main source of information on the British Wizarding Community was the government of the British Wizarding Community, but he was pretty sure it did. They'd probably have more accurate information on the place if they'd come earlier and just started asking random citizens what they knew about it. It certainly would have been the case if someone was trying to find out anything about Amestris' government.

"We also would like to keep an eye on their command structure, specifically focusing on the Minister and his direct underlings, to truly understand exactly who and what we're dealing with. Lastly, we're curious as to what one of their departments actually is and ensuring that we at least have a rudimentary idea of what goes on in the Department of Mysteries is a secondary objective during the course of our mission. I've been assigned this objective specifically. Alvon was assigned to their military branch. Yoki has been assigned to the Department of International Magical Cooperation, while Mustang has been assigned to evaluate the Minister and his underlings. Any questions?"

It was odd, Ed reflected, that they could make snarky remarks throughout the entirety of their meeting but the instant they were asked a question by a superior officer, they simultaneously barked out, "No, sir."

Walther glanced briefly over them all before saying, "Dismissed. I expect to see everyone back here at 1000 hours tomorrow." He had a particularly dramatic way of exiting the room, all sharp movements with a complete lack of sound, even his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. It was slightly less impressive when one considered the amount of noise a train made, but Ed had seen it happen in every meeting he had ever seen the man in, which was what had him considering the man had a taste for dramatics, seeing Walther usually walked with heavy footsteps.

("The better to scare the new recruits," he explained one day when he had invited Ed out for drinks after work early on into their acquaintanceship and Ed had wondered if the man was all artifice or if he had been joking. While the first possibility has been discarded, Ed still isn't sure if Walther was joking or not.)

(He was.)

No one moved for a few moments following the man's fast departure. Lewis was the first to go after that, stretching as she stood and then moving out the door, the click of her heels an oddly loud counterpoint to the almost silence of the compartment. Mustang went next, smooth as he ever was, and Ed made to follow him. Instead, Ed paused when he noticed that Alvon had made to follow him in turn. He continued out of the car, and Alvon followed.

"What do you think of the specifics of the assignment?" she asked, and he was relatively sure that that was the longest sentence she had voluntarily offered in a conversation with him. Her heels clicked less loudly than Lewis's had, but he wondered why both of them had decided on heels today. He had heard Winry complain about them enough times. Then again, he was pretty sure Lewis had used her heels as weapons before and Alvon seemed to deeply dislike looking up at people, which may explain why she was spending so much time around him at this point. He supposed heels also made them look less like trained military personnel.

Alvon had been assigned to observe their military, which implied a high level of trust in her and her abilities, certainly much more trust than Ed himself merited from the Fuhrer. He wasn't sure how deep her loyalties were, so he settled for saying something safe. "I think the Fuhrer picked his operatives wisely on this mission, especially for the specific roles we'll each be taking on."

Silence fell for a few moments after that, as if she had expected him to say something more. "I agree. The placements for specific people is really telling about their capabilities though."

Oh. It was to be one of those conversations, where he was supposed to figure out exactly what she meant by what she said. She was looking down, chin tucked, as if to show how utterly polite she was, but her eyes were sharp, and Edward did not have the patience for this sort of conversation very often. "Maybe. The important thing is that the Fuhrer chose the people he deemed to be most suitable for this mission, and he is quite aware of our capabilities. I don't think we should be casting aspersions on his decision." That was diplomatic while still shutting down that topic, right? Where was Mustang when you needed him?

Ed snapped his fingers, as if remembering something, mainly for show. "Sorry to go, but I have to speak to Walther." He gave her a brief smile before turning quickly, his coat swishing behind him.

He was out of the car before she had a chance to say more than, "Goodbye."

He actually did have to talk to Walther, even if it technically wasn't that time sensitive as to leave in the middle of a conversation. He passed by Mustang with a nod at the man, already reading a leather bound book that seemed relatively interesting if the way Mustang startled when Ed opened the car door was any indication of how absorbing it was. He found Walther in the second car from the end and locked the door of the compartment Walther had taken over behind him.

The compartment itself was unsurprisingly still undecorated, but Ed was sure that even if it had made sense to bring nonessentials, Walther still wouldn't have decorated anything. The man himself was doing pushups, having somehow already changed into sweats with his shirt thrown onto his bed.

"Walther," Ed said, annoyance slipping into his tone as the man looked up at him from the ground. He had interrupted the man's exercise routine, and he felt decidedly guilt free about it. The man exercised too much anyway with his daily routine and doing additional exercises whenever anything remotely stressful happened. He wasn't even sweating and it hadn't been too long since the meeting had dispersed, so it wasn't as if he had gotten too far along yet.

Walther rolled over onto his back, lying there for a moment and looking cross before he stood and pulled the shirt on. "Elric."

Straight to the point, Ed said, "Why did you intervene in the argument earlier?"

He could almost feel Walther deciding whether or not to play at ignorance and was pleased when he merited enough respect that the man said, "I'll assume you're referring to the argument between Mustang and Fessler." Ed nodded, crossing his arms. Walther himself sat on his bed, scooting until his back touched the wall and looking unbearably casual. "Mustang's position made sense. I didn't enjoy sitting in a cramped compartment earlier."

"That's bullshit, and you know it," Ed said, and he felt more aggressive about this than he thought he would. He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice so it didn't carry past the compartment. "You played it so that Mustang would win, and I know you. You wouldn't let yourself give an opinion about anything unless you knew exactly how it would look, even something that small. I don't know if you wanted to support him or if you're warning me that you're going to put more attention on him-"

Walther waved a hand at him, cutting off his burgeoning rant that felt increasingly paranoid as it went on. This was Walther, not the Fuhrer; Walther wasn't trying to kill or discredit him in any manner and the fact that his thoughts had even gone there was a bit surprising to Ed.

"Worried about your boyfriend then?" Walther asked, and it was a wonder that anyone could be intimidated by a man who seemed to revert to the mentality of a child when Ed brought up his superior officer. "Really, Edward, you shouldn't be so obvious about it," he said, and there was something sharp and serious in his tone that made Ed pay more attention. "You've both lost some standing due to the fraternization rumor, and I'm just ensuring that no one decides to discount you or him due to that. You're both intelligent people, more so than some of the others on this mission."

Ed narrowed his eyes, frustration warring with understanding. "Like you said, we're intelligent people. We can figure it out without any of your power plays." Just because he liked Walther didn't mean he liked the politics the man tended to bring with him. He turned and refrained from storming out by sheer force of will, the effort not helped by Walther's sigh. He was not going to look like a child after that conversation, even if he felt a bit like one.

Entering the next car over had him almost running into Muller. He let out a huff of annoyance. It wasn't as if this train was that small that he shouldn't be able to avoid people when he wasn't in a good mood. "Muller," he briskly greeted as he passed him.

"Elric," he said, and then he was walking with him. Ed looked askance at him, wondering how people were getting the impression that he wanted people to walk with him through the train. "Are you excited for the school? It must be weird thinking about being around that many people your age again!"

Truthfully, Edward hadn't considered it that much in the short amount of time since the meeting. A school would have a lot of people his age, but he didn't really consider them his peers in any manner. Perhaps it was arrogant to think, but he was a little different from most his age. While Alphonse did pretty well at behaving as though everything was normal, even he sometimes reminded Ed that Ed's experiences were quite unusual, particularly for someone his age.

What did people his age even do? How much different from them was he really? And how much different were the people in the British Wizarding Community from the people of Amestris?

Thinking about it felt like a headache waiting to happen. "I guess," he said noncommittally. "It will certainly be an experience." Whether it would be a good one was a completely different beast.

"I think you're going to love it. I mean, it's different hearing about magic than seeing it, even if wizards and witches aren't very bright for using it. Theory versus practical knowledge, right?" Muller smiled expectantly at him, all friendly and soft edges.

Ed opened his mouth, at a sort of loss. He hadn't been expecting Muller to be someone with an anti-magic stance, even if it was a relatively common position. The man was just so pleased with everything that being pleased with magic seemed to fit. "Ah," he said, stalling for a bit more time. His own feelings about magic were more muddled than most people's, partially because it was really just alchemy but also because he had used magic once. It really didn't seem like the best idea to tell Muller that he had used magic before though. "I'm interested in the ways they use it and whether it is similar to the way we use alchemy back home."

"Got any theories about it then?"

Ed shrugged. "Not really. I don't know enough about them to say anything about their lifestyles."

Muller laughed, a cruel note in it that made Ed wary. "I don't really think you have to know much about them. I heard they're a lazy sort, using magic as a first resort for everything."

"We'll have to see when we get there," he said diplomatically. It was a bit worrisome that Muller had been assigned this mission when he seemed to have strong anti-magic leanings. He would have to feel out the others' position on the topic and see what the majority thought, but Ed didn't have a good feeling about this. It made sense with his suspicions about the mission and its true objective, but it was still unsettling. If they were aiming for war, he didn't want it to happen any earlier than planned.

Before Muller could start another conversation, Ed smiled at him and said, "Did you bring along any books?" The man had brought a few, with the discussion taking them through the short walk to the car he shared with Mustang.

"I'm going to get started on my own reading. See you around," Edward said before entering his compartment and locking the door. Mustang had his own compartment, and Ed would sneak over there later, but he wasn't going to enter it while Muller was there. Alvon and Muller both seemed really interested in having conversations with him and while that generally wouldn't strike him as odd, the fact that both of the Intelligence agents had sought him out for conversation already didn't feel quite right.

Maybe it was nothing.

Ed would have been willing to let it go and blame it on overly friendly soldiers and an overactive imagination except they continued to find opportunities to speak to him about the specific shops people were being assigned to and information about the Minister of Magic and the books he was reading and whether he had brought along his uniform and what was happening with his brother, and he really just wished they would stop, because it was setting him on edge.

The train itself wasn't so bad, but close proximity to everyone else on it was something to be avoided. Muller and Alvon made him feel paranoid, and while Lewis seemed to like him well enough, the woman was famous enough for her lethality that he couldn't relax in her presence. Yoki annoyed him when they spent too long together, which was unfortunate as the man seemed like he needed help with learning how to behave when dealing with a mission that fell between covert ops and a normal operation, especially seeing as the man was still dressing in his uniform most days, even though he had to have figured out how uncomfortable it was by now. Fessler seemed to be content ignoring him, and Ed was okay with that, especially since his first impression of the man had not improved. He was still a bit annoyed with Walther, but the man was making a point of listening to all suggestions during the meetings he called, even if he somehow still ended up incorporating Mustang's and Ed's suggestions the most.

Ed ended up spending a lot of time lounging about by himself. Even if he was perfectly content to lounge around in Mustang's compartment, he wanted to avoid fueling any rumors more than their normal behavior did. Avoiding Mustang felt just as irritating as spending too long with anyone else on the train, which left Ed a little snappish and therefore had the others avoiding him. It seemed the rumors of his anger were still just as active as ever, even if his subordinates had managed to avoid them somehow.

The week dragged on between meetings, which had somehow become a daily occurrence even though there was very little to actually go over, and they usually devolved into pure speculation about what to expect. It had been decided by their collective imagination that the Minister had to be a powerful wizard of some kind, although his staff might not be as competent, seeing as power could be a motivator for a powerful wizard to enter the government, but the community had suffered losses in their last war, the effects of which possibly might extend until the present. Being physically imposing would be less telling of how effective one was in a fight, which could prove problematic, but a wand was too obvious of a weak point. A priority was placed on finding out if witches and wizards could perform magic without a wand, some of those present glancing at Ed when the topic was brought up.

Any particularly wild speculations were avoided; the instant it become a little too farfetched, one of them would remind the speaker that they were a military operation, not a book club.

Ed was relatively sure that their speculation wouldn't be all that relevant on the ground, but it filled up the time.

Upon disembarking from the train, he felt disoriented. The train was only to bring them just outside the wards and then a car was to bring them to their flight, and even though he knew that technology was different outside the wards, seeing the car was a shock. It was both more clunky than he had expected and more sleek than he was used to. The cars in Amestris were modeled after carriages still and it was more apparent in their construction. The car they were greeted by sat twelve people and seemed a bit excessive. They loaded their luggage, their wooden trunks suddenly seeming a bit odd when compared to the cloth interior.

When turned on, the engine was softer than Ed expected, a detail that distracted him even as he started talking to Mustang and Lewis about the chemical composition of the car. Everything seemed to serve to remind him that he was no longer in Amestris. Their driver, a middle aged woman who smiled and didn't introduce herself but acknowledged each of them by their ranks, wore clothes that seemed odd, the colors different and the fit off from what he expected, and her words were slightly accented as she explained that she lived outside the wards and was given a stipend as long as she helped discretely transport people from inside the wards to wherever they happened to be going. She implied the stipend itself might have been obtained through somewhat criminal means, but it was enough for her, and she didn't question it.

Entering the city was bizarre. The driver didn't care for their glancing around, telling them that they were to present identification and board the appropriate flight, and that she trusted they wouldn't spend too much time gawking and miss it. Their plane would stop in Borispol and then another would take them to London. After that, they were to check into their hotel where a Ministry official would greet them. Seeing as they had already covered this multiple times in the last week aboard the train, no one paid her too much mind. She shoved a wallet and an envelope at Walther when they were exiting her car.

The airport itself was a big building, but Ed couldn't be less intimidated. Central Command was both bigger and more imposing than this building that seemed to be made primarily of glass. If someone decided to attack them here, the glass was unlikely to provide much cover for anyone attempting not to get killed. It was a bit ridiculous.

As he moved through the appropriate lines, he noticed the lack of interest in them, although he was certainly interested in the people around him. The language he heard around him was similar to Amestranian, but he couldn't catch the words and the words he did hear were unfamiliar. Occasionally, he would understand something, but he was definitely grateful that Muller was their official Ukrainian translator because he would have been lost. The man moved their group through the airport with ease, instructing them on when to hand over documents and where exactly they were going.

The machine went off when Ed went through, but a flash of part of his prosthetic and some quick talking on Muller's part smoothed over any difficulties there might have been.

It wasn't until they were seated on the plane, something even more disorienting than the car, that Ed realized that the air around him felt different. Certainly there were different smells, but the very quality of the air seemed to lack something. Now that he was considering it, it had seemed to feel differently ever since they had exited the train, which led Ed to think it had something to do with the wards. He would have shared the observation with Mustang, but the man had been given a window seat on the other side of the aisle.

Take off was slightly unnerving when he didn't really know what to expect and looking out the window was a heady experience, because there was the illustration of the principles he lived his life by. It was in the disappearance of the evidence of human passage and how the distance made everything seem so small. He suddenly felt quite optimistic about this venture. If the people outside the wards could see how everything blended together so well, they couldn't be nearly as uncivilized as their information and assumptions could sometimes paint them as.

His gazing out the window didn't distract him from the fact that Muller and Alvon had sat behind him in the car and were behind him now.

Landing didn't seem to come too long after, although Ed supposed his sense of time could be a bit warped after the week on the train that sometimes had seemed like it would never end. Then, it was through another airport, and it was really astonishing how much glass these people used in their airports. The second take off was much more exciting than the first now that he knew what to expect and he could practically hear Al telling him how much of an adrenaline junkie he could be. The pang of homesickness wasn't a particularly welcome sensation, so he tried to shove it aside, looking through the window once more as the ground dropped away. It was still a bit harder to breathe outside the wards, a constant reminder that it would be a long time until he next saw Al or anyone else had had left behind.

His first step in London was anticlimactic, as he was swept forward by the people so anxious to get off the plane. Walther led the way through the crowds bustling around them, using his bulk to force the crowd to move around him. It perhaps wasn't the most polite way to cut through, but they were able to follow behind him with little trouble. The chatter around them was a mix of languages, although the majority of the people in the airport seemed to be speaking English. Some of the words he caught took a moment to properly understand, being pronounced a little differently than he had expected. Alvon stood next to him as they waited for their luggage, seemingly unconcerned with finding their second contact who was supposed to give them a ride to the Leaky Cauldron.

"It's brighter than I expected it would be," she said as she looked at him.

"The clothing or the weather?" he asked, looking at the carousel of bags. Their trunks would certainly stand out when compared to the other bags.

"Both," she said and then went to lift her trunk. His took a little longer to come around, and Lewis had managed to find their contact in the meantime, looking unimpressed with his sign reading, "Walther and company".

This man was a lot more starstruck than their first contact had been, explaining that he had volunteered to come outside the wards two years ago and he was quite honored to meet them all. He made a point to shake their hands before he led them to his car. It seemed to be the exact same car as the one their last contact had had except a bit more disorganized as their driver moved some papers into his glove compartment before they were able to get in.

Being seated beside Mustang after a week of barely seeing the man was odd to say the least, especially now that he was not being distracted by the car itself, and Ed felt all too aware of how he was sitting, possibly because Lewis was sitting on his other side, and the woman unnerved him. He much preferred the relaxed evenings with Mustang that seemed so much further away than a week ago.

One mildly uncomfortable car ride later, they stood in front of a building that almost seemed to be not there as their ride gave a cheerful goodbye, ignoring the horns of the cars behind him. It was a few moments before he drove away.

The Leaky Cauldron certainly seemed to be there at first glance, but the longer that Ed focused on it, the more he wanted to look away. It wasn't anything he couldn't ignore, but it was irritating. He strode toward the door, and no one was particularly eager to get in the way of the man scowling so fiercely.

The inside was much less irritating than the outside. Entering the building came with the added quality to the air that had been missing, making breathing easier once more. Magic, then, was not particularly subtle. The wards surrounding this place likely kept it hidden much like Amestris was, although perhaps to a lesser extent. Here though, the wards seemed to both allow him forward and want him away. It wasn't enough to be particularly distracting, more like a breeze on his skin that alternated direction by the moment, but it was troubling. Would different wards react differently to him?

Walther entered behind him, not pausing in his walk like Ed had upon entering and walking directly to the counter. "We have reservations," Walther said shortly to the man behind it, and Ed was suddenly struck with how obvious their accents made them.

"The Amestranian delegation?" the man asked, sounding relatively confident about his assumption and smiling when Walther nodded at him. "I'm Tom, the owner of this establishment. I can lead you up to your rooms in a second, just let me-"

"We're fine. Just give us directions to the rooms," Walther said, and it was always gratifying to see someone else be intimidated by Walther.

Tom nodded before drawing out his wand and a quick flick brought four keys to his hands. "Just go up the stairs over there and find the rooms with the correct numbers." He handed the keys to Walther who immediately handed on to Ed, Lewis and Yoki, keeping one for himself. "Breakfast is served until ten," Tom called after them.

The keys were dull, perhaps from the years or perhaps from not being maintained, but the numbers etched into the handles were easy to read despite that. Filing up the stairs seemed to be far more dangerous than flying thousands of miles above the earth, with the way they creaked and seemed to bend under the weight of his metal limbs. He was not looking forward to doing this once more in the morning. He comforted himself with the fact that at least he wouldn't have to do it again with his trunk.

Ed unlocked his door, with Mustang claiming the other bed in the room with not a word exchanged. He simply followed Ed through the door and placed his luggage next to the bed to the right of the door. Ed placed his own things at the foot of his bed as Mustang sat, staring at Ed. "What?"

"We should explore the area a bit before we get comfortable. We won't have the time tomorrow."

"A meeting with a ministry official should not take all day," Ed said doubtfully while he mentally ran through all the high ranked officials he knew that made a visit to their office into an ordeal that went on for hours.

Mustang gave him a particularly unimpressed look. "You're smarter than that," was all he said.

Ed sighed and made his way to the door. Lewis was already in the hall when he opened the door.

"Walther, Alvon and Muller already left," she said shortly. "Muller is trying to arrange a group dinner at 1800. Be downstairs then if you want to attend." She left, her ever present heels clicking on the wooden floor as she went.

"Quite an impressive woman," Mustang said, and Ed hadn't realized Mustang was so close behind him. If he focused, it was almost as if he could feel the man's body heat, which was alarming, seeing as he hadn't noticed Mustang creeping up on him.

"Quite a scary woman," Ed replied as he started walking.

"I feel that's already implied with any woman in our lives." Ed huffed out a short laugh, turning to see Mustang already looking at him, a half smile on his lips.

Getting into the alley wasn't too problematic as Tom was still standing beside the wall that the patrons directed them out to. "Your friend said you would be coming down in a moment," he said with a genial smile as he tapped at the bricks with his wand. The wall melted into itself, creating a door for them both. Tom was slipping into his bar again when Mustang stopped him.

"Do you have anywhere that you think we have to see? It's all a little overwhelming, very different from home," he said, and while Ed heard the faked wistfulness, Tom's smile turned into something more sympathetic.

"Gringotts is your first stop, to change your money in Galleons. You can't miss it. Fortescue's is a nice place to stop by, if you have the time; the man makes the best ice cream in London. Flourish and Blotts is the biggest bookstore in the alley, if you're looking for any reading material. Really, Diagon Alley is mainly for the kids shopping for their school supplies, so there's not much for adults to do unless you wander in Knockturn, and anything there… Well, it's dubious at best."

"Stay out of Knockturn and visit Fortescue's," Mustang repeated, giving the man a small grin as thanks before nodding. "See you this evening then." Tom nodded back and slipped inside, the door closing silently behind him. It was a little unnerving when the building was so old and the floors creaked when stepped on.

"We have enough money for books, right?" Ed asked, facing Mustang and cocking his head.

Mustang looked at him. "I don't think any amount of money is enough for books for you."

Ed rolled his eyes as he turned to survey the alley. "Don't exaggerate," he said, taking in the sights before him. It all screamed magical at him, a sixth sense making it all seem smothering rather than awe inspiring. The trinkets that flew in the air and the exotic ingredients were met with the same amount of displeasure, shouting their presence at him in the way that magic seemed to do.

"I seem to recall someone claiming my couch for days because I had books he couldn't get elsewhere," Mustang teased, taking in the alley himself and seemingly trying to keep himself from sneering. It wasn't working too well.

"That's different," Ed protested as they continued down the alley. "Those were free."

Despite the petty arguments they had as they walked, Ed felt far more relaxed than he had been in the last week. Mustang's teasing was something familiar and comfortable.

Finding Gringotts wasn't particularly difficult when it truly seemed to be the one building in the alley that was impossible to miss. The goblins there were quite adamant that they were goblins and not anything else.

"Doesn't look like any of them are in pain," Ed murmured in Amestranian as they followed one of the goblins to an office to exchange some of their money. "Even if they are assholes."

"Maybe you should have more tact instead of just asking them what they are as your introduction, and they wouldn't be so rude," Mustang murmured back.

"You don't get to take the rude chimeras side, bastard," was the only response he got before Ed walked slightly faster to catch up with the goblin. "How long has your species been around?" he asked, switching to English, ignoring Mustang's exasperated sigh.

"Longer than yours, wizard," the goblin snapped back quickly.

"I think I like goblins," Ed said to Mustang, a wide grin stretching across his face. "They remind of some other prickly bastards I've dealt with."

Neither the goblin nor Mustang were amused. Ed's grin just widened as they shot him identical unimpressed looks.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, I am so slow at this. Ten months though. Improvement?<strong>

**Honestly, I'm not particularly pleased with this chapter. Not enough going on besides rumblings of what's coming later, and I feel like you guys deserve more now that you've waited so long for this. I mean, a lot of it is necessary so you don't feel completely blindsided by some of my plans for later, but I need to figure out a more efficient way to do this. I feel like the characters are behaving a bit OOC in this chapter too, but I can't quite pin down the moments that are bothering me.**

**I'm sort of curious as to how many of you are paying attention to the wards and their effects though, seeing as that's sort of a huge thing with the way I have magic and alchemy working in this universe. I'd like to clarify though that this is a universe in which the homunculi never existed, so anything that their existence made happen did not happen. This has effects like Hughes being alive to Ed having found an alternative way of getting Al's body back. Magic is a subcategory of alchemy in this. **Really though, I'm doing this to tell a story, so sometimes the fact of canon or the time period may have to be sacrificed. ** This story is set in the 90s, like the Harry Potter books, although I don't remember the actual 90s, so you'll possibly have to forgive the occasional anachronism whenever there might be interactions with Muggles or Muggleborn.**

**I basically started this fic because I read a plot summary and completely misinterpreted it as the Wizarding World and Amestris going to war, and then I wanted to write that. I also haven't seen a fic where magic obeys the rules of alchemy, so I thought about how that would work and hopefully it'll make sense later on when you guys see more of Ed's backstory and his previous dealings with magic.**

**My apologies to those who thought the train trip would be more of a romantic getaway. The romance is a long time in coming, as in the war will likely be underway before Ed and Roy get their shit together.**

**Do you guys like the interactions between the characters, particularly between Ed and Mustang? Is anything not making sense?**

**If you're interested, I can give you a rundown on how magic works in this universe, one that's a little more in depth than the prologue. If enough people ask, I'll just put it in one of my Author's Notes. **

**As always, this is un-beta'd, so feel free to point out any mistakes I make.**

**Please review, as that is always appreciated, as are follows and favorites. Thank you for reading!**

**Ja ne!  
>~J. DCF<strong>


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